Harry Potter and The Mouth of Hell
by DavidB226Morris
Summary: The Ministry has fallen, and Harry and his friends are on the run. In a desperate attempt to stop Voldemort and find the remaining Horcruxes, the bedeviled trio is led to track down the help of the Slayer.
1. Prologue

_**Harry Potter and The Mouth of Hell**_

_**A HP/Buffy the Vampire Slayer Crossover**_

_**(What, Another One?)**_

Summary: The Ministry has fallen, and Harry and his friends are on the run. In a desperate attempt to stop Voldemort and find the remaining Horcruxes, the bedeviled trio is led to track down the help of the Slayer. But Buffy and the Scoobies have their enemies as well, and two radically divergent master villains may lead to a struggle none may survive.

Disclaimer: Harry, Hermione, Ron, and everyone associated with the world of Hogwarts is the property of that shining light J.K. Rowling. Buffy, Willow, Xander, and everyone else that is associated with Sunnydale is the product of that other beacon Joss Whedon and the gang at Mutant Enemy. I'm just a humble scribe who means no harm to either.

Author's Note: This may well have been done before by someone a lot more talented than I am. However, there are some things the willing reader of this fanfic must know.

For starters, I've only seen bits and pieces of the movies, so just about everything that I know about Harry Potter comes from the books. I intend to use almost everything within them as gospel. There are, however, two notable exceptions.

First, everything that we know about the World of Wizarding seems to focus almost entirely on Europe. I'm not sure if America was even mentioned more than a dozen times during the entire saga. We therefore have next to no clear idea as to what magic was like on the other side of the Atlantic. This story will deal with certain elements of it, but may end up taking liberties with canon. For whatever errors I make in regard to this, I take literary license, and believe I should have a little rope.

Second, the calendar of every event in the Harry Potter is being advanced one year from the dates that we saw in Deathly Hallows. Therefore, _The Sorcerer's Stone _took place in 1992, and so on from there. The Buffy timeline remains unchanged. With the exception of the Prologue, whatever events occur take place during Season 3 of Buffy. I will be making certain allusions to certain episodes from that season the further along that we get into the story. It also means that the relationships of certain characters and their behavior is based entirely on where they were in Buffy's senior year. I'll be adding certain details, but knowledge of what happened in Season 3 will probably help

Full disclosure: the actual crossover will not begin until a few chapters in. However, it still takes place in the Buffy-type universe, and certain facts will be given as understood.

RATING: PG-13. But there's a definite adult overtone, just like in books and the show itself.

Buckle up, kiddies.

**PROLOGUE**

**Third Year, Defense Against the Dark Arts Class**

The wizarding community had about as low an opinion of vampires as they did the slugs that got handled in Hagrid's Care of Magical Creatures course - they weren't even worth the time to elaborate battling on. In all the books Gilderoy Lockhart wrote, he didn't devote so much as a paragraph to them. (Anyone who'd survived his year at Hogwarts would hardly raise their eyebrows at this) Indeed, the only lesson that Harry Potter had received of anything of value came in December of Remus Lupin's only year of DADA.

When Draco Malfoy had seen the word _nosferatu _on the board, he had practically cackled. "We're going to waste a class on _this?"_

Half of Gryffindor shot the young Slytherin a dirty look. It didn't matter that many of those same students held the exact same opinion he did. Malfoy could've have remarked that the Sun was hot, and have everybody who wasn't in Slytherin arguing that it was cold.

Professor Lupin, however, did not automatically deduct points from Slytherin for an obvious case of insolence, though half the faculty probably would've done so with little thought. "He's right, of course," he replied instead. "From the moments a student enters a wizarding school, he has the knowledge in his power to destroy a vampire. _Acacia Lumos!"_

A small bolt of fire emerged from the tip of his wand. "One merely brushes them with this, and poof! A vampire returns to the dust of the earth from whence he came. Hardly worth the trouble, it would seem."

Lupin paused. "The thing about vampires, though, is they are not complete fools. They realized early on that going up against anyone within our community would lead to complete extinction of their race in a matter of hours. So at some point in the distant past-I'm sure that, if asked politely, Professor Binns could give the exact date- vampires reached a consensus that attacking us would not be in their best interests. "

It would come as a surprise to no one that Hermione was the one to raise the question that occurred to many of the others. "Professor, during the last war, didn't", she hesitated, then plunged ahead "Voldemort try to recruit the vampires to his side?"

Lupin gave a small smile. "Most of the people on his side-" his eyes flicked briefly to the Slytherin section, a move that didn't go unnoticed by anyone in the classroom "have refrained from revealing what exactly the Dark Lord's relationship with the undead was. Some have theorized that the vampires refused to cast their lots in with someone who could crush them with a thought. Others have said that Voldemort would not even consider joining forces with those whose blood was so obviously impure. And that is where the matter would rest - if one believes the Ministry."

Looking back on this event years later, Harry would realize, that this had been the first time that any authority figure at all had even suggested that the Ministry was not the be-all and end-all. But then, as someone that the people in Sunnydale really hated would have put it, you never recognize the big moments when they come.

"And that would be true," Lupin continued, back in a lecture, "if one doesn't consider the enemy at all. For that is what an undead creature is, do not doubt it. The fact that they can be so easily vanquished by one of us, does not make them any less deadly. Certainly not to the millions of Muggles out there who have no natural defense against them. These creatures are cold-blooded killers who could and have, laid waste to entire villages. Wiped out entire families. And would have no moral compunction in turning someone as young as you into one of them."

"So why hasn't the Ministry made a move to wipe them out?' Ron asked. "I mean, muggles may be helpless, but my guess is this entire class could easily take out a cove of vampires without having to sweat."

"Because vampires are not fools," the professor replied. "And the passage of time has worked in their favor. In the past, vampires would bare certain marks to make them recognizable- cloven hoofs, a visible raised forehead and yellow eyes. Some of the older ones still do. But as the blood has mixed with more and more humans, it has become easier for them to hide in plain sight. They can hide their visage until they are about to feed. Passing among us as anyone else in the room. When muggles learned to harness electricity, it opened whole new worlds for them. The average vampire could now live for decades without ever being suspected of being a monster. And those are usually smart enough to avoid us if they can."

Lupin was a hell of a storyteller, but none of this was exactly news. It was his next words that made the lesson count for something. "They are not the ones we have to fear. It's the old ones, the clever ones that may bring about the most danger. And even though wizards choose to ignore them, it doesn't change that they have the potential to bring about destruction far worse than anything a minion of Voldemort could do."

Had Quirell or Lockhart had said this, the class would have likely considered it hyperbole. "Who are these?" Neville had asked.

Lupin looked out at his class. "Probably the fairest way to do this is alphabetical," he said. "Gryffindor, you will research Angelus. Hufflepuff, Darla. Ravenclaw, Drusilla. Slytherin, William the Bloody. Your assignment is to research and provide a report on who they are and what they have done in their long lifetimes. Some of you may think I've given you to little information. Believe me," he focused them with a dark look, "I've given all you need."

Professor Lupin never told Harry, but this particular lesson plan had been the subject of a certain amount of debate of the faculty. Snape, as one might have expected, considered this yet another example of how Defense Against the Dark Arts was being handled by a rank amateur. However, Minerva McConagall was notably bothered as well, claiming that this was particularly disturbing especially to the younger students.

"These are particularly brutal creature, Remus," she argued.

"The world can be a disturbing place, Minerva, as much as we'd like to hide it from them."

"Who for all we know have been out of the picture for decades," she countered. "Do you really want to have students getting nightmares when they here how William the Bloody got his other nickname?"

"This course is to train young minds against the forces of darkness. Are you going to make the argument that these creatures are no longer in the picture-" Remus paused deliberately "which we know is probably false, or that they would not rank as a probable threat, which we also know they can be."

Others might have won out, but the fact that Dumbledore had given Remus a certain amount of leeway carried the day.

Snape, however, had the last word. "It's your responsibility, Remus. Which means you'll be the one handling the nightmares."

While initially there had been some infighting among the houses for the materials for the research, that had dried up as the full nature of what they were researching fully came into view.

Even when disgusted by what she was learning, Hermione was incapable of doing a less than thorough job on anything. Her report on Angelus was particularly obvious.

"Sired around 1750, Angelus, or the one with the angelic face, was known as the Scourge of Europe. No one has ever done a complete record, but it is estimated that he is responsible for laying waste to several villages in Galway, throughout Ireland, Wales, and ultimately England. There are discussions that he often lay waste to religious orders, monasteries, churches, and, in one case, a member of the Holy Sea."

The entire report was discussed to the gradual paling of the assemblage, as much of Angelus' atrocities as they'd been able to locate. Then, the others house gave their reports- Darla's ravages throughout Colonial America, Drusilla's devastation of Prague that had her escaping from an angry mob, William the Bloody's slaughter of a Chinese village in the chaos of the Boxer Rebellion. Even Draco Malfoy's complexion went a shade whiter when he learned how William had earned the nickname "Spike"

It was Ron who finally had the nerve to ask the question that was bothering all of them. "Why did we have to learn about these monsters?"

Professor Lupin looked at them. "I understand there were some arguments between the Houses about materials."

Neville nodded. "A lot of the time these vampires paths crossed. Angelus was believed to be Drusilla's sire, and there was a period near the end of the last century when all four were part of the same gang."

"More than that," the Professor said. "There are rumors that all four vampires were, at one point, members of the Order of Aurelius, one of the oldest and feared demonic groups. It's never been clear how loyal they were, but at one point in their, for lack of a better word, careers, all four led attacks on wizarding communities, and they were very good."

"How do you figure that?" Draco asked.

"A lot of good wizards died. They didn't." Lupin said simply.

"But Professor, about thirty years ago any information, we had on these vampires dried up." Hermione pointed out." Surely they've been stopped

"Never make assumptions, Miss Granger," the professor argued. "With the coming of the new centuries, the traditional vampire was able to adapt. The youngest of these vampires lived for over a century. It's safe to assume they did as well."

"But if these creatures are so fearsome and dangerous, why hasn't the Ministry intervened?" Seamus asked.

The teacher never got a chance to answer the question. A blond-haired student from Ravenclaw beat him to it. "Because it's not their job," Luna Lovegood replied. "The killing of vampires has always been the duty of the Slayer."

Luna was still considered "spacey" by the majority of Hogwarts - even Ravenclaws were not always comfortable. "How do you know about that?" Harry asked.

"My dad's always filing stories in the Quibbler about them," Luna answered. "He likes them. A story with a Slayer thwarting a major demons sells another thousand copies."

The other students looked at the Professor. "Is this true?" Hermione asked.

"I was just getting to that."

So Remus Lupin told them the story of the Slayer, how young teenage girls would be vested with the power to face vampires, demons and the forces of darkness.

Telling the assembled students that there was a young girl standing between them and possible destruction didn't sit will with a surprising number of the student body. This time, it was Hermione who raised the question.

"So this Slayer, she's always a young girl?" she began slowly. When Remus answered, her follow-up was "And no one knows who she might be?". Then came the clincher. "How long do these girls live, on average?"

Lupin had been prepared for the question, but he hadn't been that happy to give the answer. "Very few live past their twenty-first birthday."

It took him several seconds to restore order in the classroom. By the time he did, the questions were flying fast and furious. The ultimate question was: could a witch be a Slayer?

"And it is here that we reach what can only be described as a conflict." A strange expression was beginning to emerge on the professor's face - disgust and resignation seemed to be part of equal measure. "The Vampire Slayer has always been under the purview of an organization known as the Watcher's Council, an organization based in London, almost entirely made up of muggles, whose sole duties is to train, monitor and nurture girls into slayers."

"What kind of relationship do they have with wizards?" someone asked

"Not a good one." Lupin again hesitated, then plunged forward. "The Council has an extremely dark view of magic users in general. For centuries the Council and Ministry have always been in conflict over how to deal with the world of darkness, and on more than one occasion, they've gone to war."

This was nearly as shocking as the revelation of the Slayer in the first place. However, an expression was beginning to appear on Ron's face. "They didn't help at all against You-Know-Who." Attention immediately went to the red-haired student. "My father's mentioned that this was a major problem between with the ministry during the war. "

"Your father's quite right," Lupin replied. "They've always considered these conflicts 'internal problems' as if a war with the Dark Lord wasn't dangerous for everybody. It's hypocrisy, of course, because more than a few members of the Council are amateur practitioners of magic themselves." He almost scoffed. "Frankly, it's rather remarkable they haven't managed to get themselves killed."

"But what about the Slayers?" Hermione still seemed rather fixed on the previous problem. "Have any of them ever been witches or not?"

"I was getting to that," the Professor went on. "When a girl reaches a certain age, there are ways to tell if she has the potential to be a slayer. At any time, there are dozens, possibly even hundreds of girls who could be chosen. And several times- I don't know the exact number, but at least three or four times a century - those Slayers have been witches. It is on those occasion that there have been - struggles- as to who gets to train them."

"What side do they choose?" Hermione demanded.

Lupin seemed a little nonplussed at this. "Who?"

"The girls. Who do they choose?"

Lupin was loathe to answer this, but he did. "As far as I know, the Watcher's Council doesn't put the girls feelings into consideration at all. As soon as they are identified as potentials, they are often taken away from their parents, and trained for the day that comes when they are chosen."

"And the Ministry?" Cho Chang had asked this one.

"When the girl in question is a witch, the Ministry wanted them to attend special classes at a more advanced schools such as Hogwarts. However, no wizarding family has given birth to a Slayer in over half a century. No one is sure whether that has been because they haven't had any, or whether the Council has resorted to more manipulative methods to take possession of them before the Ministry can locate them. It's because of fighting such as this that the Council has refused to interfere in either of the last two struggles against darker forces."

By now, all of the girls in class had gotten incredibly still- even the ones in the Slytherin camp seemed a little uneasy. "Where is the current slayer?" Pavarati asked

"Her name is India Cohen.. I believe she's fighting Polgara demons in the Caucuses." Again, everybody looked at Luna, who just shrugged. "My father tries to have at least one reporter following the Slayer at any time."

"So what you're saying is that if-when something happens to this girl- any girl in this room could potentially become a Slayer, would have to leave Hogwarts and be trained to kill demons- and there's nothing that any of us could do to stop it?"

Professor Lupin had tried to assure everyone in the class that Hogwarts had strict precautions that would prevent this from happening, and that the Ministry would fight tooth and nail to make sure this could be avoided. But Harry was clever, and he noticed that the DADA Professor stopped short of saying she was wrong.

The news about the Slayer was a big deal in Hogwarts for a few days - a bigger deal than the vampire lesson at all. But even among the most able minded of young people, life tends to swallow people up. And with the routine of becoming a fully trained wizards, the majority of the student eventually just moved on with the curriculum.

There was a very notable exception- Hermione. For the next three months (and even after learning that she was taking lessons as a Time Turner, Harry still had no idea when she fit it into her schedule) she spent trying to find all the information she could in the Hogwarts library about the Watchers Council and the girls who became Slayers.

Even more surprising, when she asked for Ron's assistance to do research, he was willing to make time. Considering what had happened to Ginny last year, Harry actually could understand why.

None of the news that they got about what the Watcher's council was like and how the Slayer was treated was encouraging. The average life span for a Slayer was three years. Slayers could be called as young as thirteen. The Watchers had no problem treating any of their Slayers as if they were nothing more than cannon fodder for a war against demons, putting themselves above the counseling. And their training methods were barbaric.

"If a Slayer turns eighteen, they put her through a test called a Crucimanteum," Hermione told them one day. "They basically strip her of her powers using a combination of magic and medicine, and test her abilities to fight against a very powerful vampire. To see how strong is."

Harry knew that Hermione was almost never wrong about these sorts of things, but he still wasn't sure he'd heard right. "They do understand that if she fails the test, the Slayer is dead?" he demanded.

"What do they care?" Hermione sounded more angry than any time since he knew her. "She's just a Slayer. She dies, another one is called, and they can start all over again. Slayers are no more valuable to these people that tissue paper. What's the life of an innocent girl mean to them?"

What Hermione didn't have was a solution to the problem, and lack of direction, combined with the normal build up of schoolwork, and the revelations of what happened at the end of third year, eventually caused her to reluctantly give up her research.

He had suspected she would resume the research when they returned to Hogwarts. Instead, however, she had seized upon house elves being held under conditions that she considered slavery, and that became her cause celebre. Perhaps that was one of the reasons that Ron and Harry had never been able to consider one of her causes.

Once, halfway through fourth year, Harry had asked her point blank if she had forgotten about the Slayers and the Watchers.

"You mean the idea that at any moment, I could awake with the strength of a hundred men, be seized by a group of arrogant Muggles who think they know better than me, and be forced into a fight against darkness that would only end with my death?" Hermione replied, clearly catching Harry off-guard. "It crosses my mind from time to time."

"Then why-"

"Because I bloody well don't have any control over that!" Hermione all but shouted. "Whenever the next Slayer dies, me- or for that matter anyone in my dormitory could become one of them. I wouldn't have a choice in the matter. It is random, and there is no control. Now I can either worry about it every minute of every day, or I can try and get on with my life. Focus on the things that I can change. Darkness is out there, Harry. You know that better than me. All we can do is prepare the best we can, and try to focus on the good in the life."

He didn't raise the subject again. Of course, not long after that, Voldemort would be resurrected, and all of the horrors that followed. The subject of the Slayer was not broached again until three years later. And it was only then that Harry learned that Hermione hadn't been completely honest with him.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

**(Author's Note. _The remainder of this story will take place just after the Ministry has fallen in Harry Potter and the Deadly Hollows. Harry, Ron and Hermione have made it back Number 12 Grimauld Place, and have just learned of Kreacher's tale. We're around Chapter 11. Lupin has visited, but well, you'll see...)_**

Any relief Harry might have felt in seeing Remus yet again had quickly fallen away when he learned exactly what was happening. The Death Eaters had searched every Order-connected house in the country, Harry was being set up as the murderer of Dumbledore. The Ministry was being run by Voldemort's puppet, and Hogwarts had fallen under his thumb. Defeating the Dark Lord had never seemed more impossible than at that moment.

Considering what Remus had no doubt risked to make it here, it broke Harry's heart a little to not be able to reveal what mission the Headmaster had led them on, or even that one of the Horcruxes might be there at any time.

"I was afraid of that," Lupin took a deep breath. "Then I must be completely honest. I have an idea what that mission may be."

For a moment, another heavy layer of doubt in Dumbledore appeared in Harry's mind. Was his beloved headmaster really as manipulative as everyone seemed to think he was.

"The last time I saw Albus was about three days before- he was murdered," Remus plunged ahead. "He told me that while the Ministry had made many grievous errors in trying to fight this war, there might still be one weapon available to us. He also said that if something were to happen to him, he would need to entrust it to the three of you. That only you could bring it about."

"What was it?" Harry asked.

"He said, you needed to go to America. California, to be specific."

Now Harry was at a genuine loss. Hermione however, as was often the case, had worked it out. "What good is the Slayer going to be against Voldemort?" Hermione seemed nearly as cold about this idea as she had learning about it the first place.

"Voldemort may have control over the Ministry and Hogwarts, but even he is bounded by the limitations of wizards," Lupin replied. "To completely consolidate his power will take months, maybe even a year. And he'll be so focused on what's going on here that he won't be able to turn his attention to America for that long. There is a window to get to her, but it's very short."

Harry was not completely surprised. His knowledge of what the magical world was like in American was very spotty, but he knew that just as the American Revolution had separated North America from England's rule, the wizarding community in America was vastly different. While some students in Hogwarts were American, the majority of them were trained at one of three magical settlements (aside from New England, he couldn't remember off the top of his head where the others were). The late Minister Scrimgeour had been castigated on a lot of fronts, but none more devastating than the inability to convince America to join in the fighting, saying they needed to stand together. The American wizards, who had not been friendly with London in either of the past major conflicts, had greeted the pleas with what seemed to be indifference.

(Harry, who knew a bit about Muggle history, knew that getting America to mobilize for _any_ European conflict took a major effort. In this case, it might take the Death Eater's showing up in Washington, D.C. before they got their act together.)

"What have the Americans been doing?" he asked Remus.

"Intelligence is sketchy, but from whatever the Order was able to learn over the past few months, they've been trying to close the borders to anyone from the Wizarding Community. They've been shutting off all portkeys that would grant Voldemort immediate access, Wizards have been securing the borders, and the American field office of the Daily Prophet closed up a month ago." Remus paused. "There's been no intelligence coming from anywhere for weeks, and even Voldemort isn't pressing his luck there."

Ron seemed confused. "Why shouldn't he? He has the Ministry in his pocket."

"It's more complicated, mainly because of the Hellmouths." Remus must have understood the looks of confusion on everyone's face. "Throughout the planet, there are what can be described as pockets of magical energy. Some of the times that energy, as you would find it in Salisbury Plains or Uluru Rock in Australia is magic that can be harbored for good. But there are also concentrations of far darker magic, and, for one reason or another there are four in America- New England, an area near Ohio, a concentration in the Southwest, and one of the darkest of all, Sunnydale, California."

"If there's so much magic, why hasn't he sent people there already?" Harry replied

"Because controlling that darkness is such a significant project, even Voldemort must move carefully if he wants to contain it, never mind control it." Remus replied. "That darkness is one of the main reasons we don't recruit more wizards from America- the dark energy overpowers almost any normal magical signature. The Americans have only managed to work around it over a couple of centuries."

Harry had thought that Dumbledore might have been, in one last smothering act of protection, trying keep him out of the reach of the Dark Lord. Instead, it sounded like going to America would only put him into greater, not less, danger. "I still don't understand. What does any of this have to do with the Slayer?" he asked.

"For starters, for the past two years, that Hellmouth in Sunnydale has been under the protection of the Slayer."

"Wonderful," Hermione replied acidly. "Bad enough they send a girl to face the forces of darkness, now she's at the epicenter of the mouth of hell. Getting her out of America might actually keep her _safer."_

"Details of what exactly she's been doing have been sketchy the last few months. Albus was reluctant to ask the Council for assistance, considering how important her charge is." Remus said. "Then about a week before he killed, he changed his mind, and made a trip to California

"Why?" Harry asked.

Remus shook his head. "Dumbledore said he had an idea that there might be some key to defeating the Dark Lord. He said something about there being a weapon there powerful enough to shift the balance of power back in our favor."

In all the years that Harry had been a student at Hogwarts, he had never known Dumbledore to use hyperbole in a positive way like this. For a moment, he wondered if Lupin was talking about the Horcruxes. "What kind of weapon?"

"He never got the chance to tell anybody," Lupin shook his head. "At least, not directly. But it turns out Dumbledore left you something in addition to what in his will."

"The Ministry didn't try and take it from you?" Hermione asked.

"The Ministry didn't know what it was for. To be perfectly honest, neither do I." Lupin reached into his cloak, and very carefully brought it out. "All I know that he entrusted it to me."

Harry had been in the wizarding world for so long that it took him a few seconds to fully realize what he was seeing. It was a key, but not one anything magical. This was a key for a safety deposit box in a muggle bank - Harry had seen the Dursleys use it a couple of times while he had existed under their roof. Clearly, whatever Dumbledore had been doing had involved what most people would call the normal world. In a bizarre way, there was a genius to it - had this fallen into the hands of Death Eaters, they would be at a loss to know what to do with it, and even if they reasoned it out, there were so many muggle banks in the country, if not the world that they'd never figure out what it would open. Of course, this cut both ways. "I don't suppose he told you what this unlocks?" he asked Remus.

Remus shook his head. "Only another cryptic message. He said that when Harry crossed the peaceful waters, a man with horns would show mercy on you, and reveal the truth."

"I'm so bloody tired of getting cryptic messages with no real answers," Ron snapped. "How does this help us fight Voldemort?"

"America," Hermione said slowly. "It would definitely involve an ocean voyage to get there from here. Maybe part of our- mission relies on searching there."

"Which raises a different problem," Harry pointed out. "How exactly would be get to California? If Voldemort has the Ministry under his control, he's probably got his flunkies guarding every available portkey. For that matter," he gestured towards the windows where he could tell people were watching, "getting out of this bloody house is going to be a challenge."

"Getting to Sunnydale would be a chore even if we lived in a time of peace," Remus replied. "The magical energy around a Hellmouth is so dark that any magical energy that approaches is easily corrupted. Consequently, there has been no safe way of passage there, or for that matter any other Hellmouth in centuries. You'd have to take a portkey to one of the neighboring cities, such as Los Angeles, and even that's a hundred miles away. "

"What about apparating?" Hermione asked.

"Same principle applies. Even if you had a license, there's just as much chance that you'd end up embedded in solid rock than near land. Harry's right, it's going to be a huge problem for you."

'Long voyage to a foreign land, no idea what we'd be looking for, and no guarantee that if we get there, the Council would let the Slayer help us in the first place," Ron said bitterly. "Any more helpful ideas?"

"The Council has taken action of a sorts," Remus had a certain measure of bitterness as well. "They've gone on holiday and left London for parts unknown. However, Albus was clear on one thing. You would be asking the Slayer herself."

"I'm surprised that you're acknowledging she has a choice in the matter," All of Hermione's own animosity about the Slayer seemed to have returned tenfold. "It's bad enough that a lot of wizards are going to die fighting in this war. You want us to sacrifice this girl as well?"

"Her name is Buffy Summers," Remus argued. "And by the time she was your age, she had already stopped the world from ending twice. You may be angry at what her job is, Hermione, but make no mistake, she does it well."

This finally managed to snap both Ron and Hermione out of the dull anger they had barely kept in ever since the word 'Slayer' had been mentioned. "She what?" Ron demanded.

"That, at least, was the last bit of intelligence we had, before it became to dangerous to have sources in America," Remus replied. "I realize that I'm asking a lot of you; I also realize that this may take away from whatever other mission Dumbledore sent you on. That being said, even if there is no weapon there, this young woman, all but single handedly, thwarted an apocalypse. And that is what we are facing, and that right soon."

Harry wasn't unimpressed by this Slayer's accomplishment, either, but it left out one crucial detail that he, Ron, and Hermione knew, but no one else could- no matter how strong or fast this Buffy was, she could not kill Voldemort. Sending her against the Dark Lord would be tantamount to suicide, and he didn't want another death on his conscience.

The thing was Dumbledore had to have known this as well, so if he had made a trip to California, maybe there was something there could actually help. At the very least maybe Voldemort had hid one of his Horcruxes there, and that was what he had been looking for.

"Assuming you're right, and that's a hell of a big assumption, how we even begin to pull it off?" Harry asked.

"It would be extremely dangerous, but there might be a way to pull it off," Remus replied. "Unfortunately, there's only one place where you could find a Portkey that gets you anywhere close to where you need to be: the Ministry itself."

"Half the wizarding world is looking for us - the evil half. for that matter - and you think that we can get into the lion's den without anyone noticing?" Ron replied.

Hermione looked at Harry. "You're not actually considering this, Harry?"

"I don't like getting anyone else mixed up in this war, either," Harry countered. "But Dumbledore didn't do anything without a reason. We may not know what the things he left us are for, but this" he held up the key, "has a purpose to it, and it has to have something to do with what this Slayer- Buffy- is doing. And right now, I don't think that we have to find a way to get there."

"Dumbledore was a great wizard, Harry, but as you can see, he was wrong about the house elves." Hermione clearly wanted to argue the point. "Besides, what about-" She clearly didn't want to reveal any more of their mission to Remus then they had to.

"I still don't see how we get in the Ministry," Ron replied. "Without that, this is all just talk."

"There might be a way," Remus told them. "It would we very dangerous for everybody involved, but there may be a way. But it'll take some time before everything can be in place."

"How long?"

"A week at least. Maybe ten days.. And there's no way to cut it."

"That's not what's worrying me. " It did, but there were so many other problems even involved with this whole approach that Harry figured mentioning it would be petty. "We don't know how long this place will be safe, and our mission will at least partially take place here." This was pure balderdash on Harry's part; for all they knew, Voldemort had scattered the remainder of his Horcruxes across the globe. Perhaps Mundungus Fletcher, when Kreacher came back with him, would reveal he'd hid the one Horcrux they did know about in the South Pole.

"You'll have to find a way to work this," Remus argued. "In any case, I should leave. Tonks will be worried, and the Order does need to make their plans accordingly." He looked away for a moment. "You understand, there's only so much help I can give you."

Remus had sounded grim through the entire conversation. This was the first time that he actually sounded sorrowful.

"You have to protect the people you love," Hermione replied just as mournfully. Harry knew who she was thinking about.

Remus utter a bark of laughter. "Safe. At this point, I don't know if Nymphadora would be safer with or without me. Or how much any of us can be safe considering where we are now."

It was so odd looking at his former professor. Lupin had always looked much older than his age. Now he looked even older than Dumbledore had been. Was this the real cost of their war they were fighting? Harry wondered how old he would look when this finished- assuming he even survived.

Lupin had been gone for more than an hour, and Harry was beginning to wonder just how awful he could feel. The three of them were still in disagreement whether or not to try and go after the Slayer, and the excerpt of Rita Skeeter's biography made him feel as if he had hardly knew Dumbledore. He was in the process of lowering the paper to ask his friend's opinions, when a deafening crack echoed round the kitchen.

The news of the last few hours had made Harry almost completely forget Kreacher, so it took him a moment to fully realize that the mass of struggling limbs included Mundungus Fletcher. Kreacher disentangled himself, and before he could finish his announcement, Mundungus was scrambling for his wand.

_"Expelliarmus!"_

Fletcher's wand soared into the air, and Hermione caught it. When he dove for the stairs, Ron tackled him, and Mundungus hit the stone floor with a crunch.

"What?" he bellowed, writhing as he tried to free himself. "What've I done? Setting a bleedin' 'ouse-elf on me, what are you playing at, lemme go-"

"You're in no position to be threatening us," Harry said, as he threw aside the newspaper, strode purposely across the kitchen, and dropped to his knees beside Mundungus who stopped struggling, and looked terrified. Ron got up, panting,, and watched as Harry pointed his wand at Fletcher's nose. Mundungus stank of stale sweat and old tobacco, his hair matted and his robe stained.

"Kreacher apologizes for the delay in bringing the thief," the elf croaked. "Fletcher knows how to avoid capture, has many hidey-holes and accomplices. Nevertheless, Kreacher cornered him in the end."

"You have done very well," Harry replied, watching th elf bow, before turning his attention to the pathetic fool lying beneath him.

"I panicked, okay," Mundungus started. "I never wanted to come along, no offense, but I never volunteered to die for you, and bloody You-Know-Who come flying at me-"

"For your information, none of us Disapparated," Hermione replied.

"Well, aren't you the bleedin' 'eroes then, aren't you, but I never pretended I was up for killing meself-"

"I don't give a damn why you ran out on Mad-Eye," Harry's voice actually lowered as he moved his wand a little closer to this weakling's baggy, bloodshot eyes. "We already knew you were an unreliable bit of scum."

"Well, why the 'ell am I being 'unted down by 'ouse elves? I ain't got none of 'em goblets left, or you could 'ave em?"

"You're getting warmer, but you're not wasting anymore time," Harry replied. "Now shut up and _listen."_

It felt wonderful to have something to do, someone he could demand some small fragment of truth. Was it wrong that some part of him was actually _enjoying _this?

"When you cleaned out this house of anything valuable," Harry began, but was interrupted.

"Sirius never cared about any of the junk-"

Mundungus should not have demeaned the property of the Black house. Immediately, there was a blaze of copper, an echoing clang, and a shriek of agony; Kreacher seemed well determined to beat him with a saucepan.

"'Call 'im off, call 'im off!"

Harry was tempted to say Kreacher had never listened to him before, but instead indicated no.

"Perhaps just one more, Master Harry, for luck?" Kreacher replied.

Ron actually managed a bitter laugh at this.

"We need him conscious, Kreacher. Feel free to step in again should he fail to cooperate."

Kreacher bowed, retreated a short distance, and fixed his great pale eyes on Mundungus with loathing.

"When you stripped this house of all it's valuables," Harry began again, "you took a bunch of stuff from the kitchen cupboard. There was a locket there." Harry's mouth was suddenly dry, and he could sense Ron and Hermione's excitement as well. "What did you do with it?"

"Why?" asked Mundungus. "Is it valuable?"

"You've still got it!" cried Hermione.

"No he hasn't," Ron countered. "He's wondering whether he should have asked more money for it.

"More?" Mundungus forgot where he was and hocked up a loogie. "That would've been fucking difficult- bleeding gave it away, didn't I? No choice."

"What do you mean?"

"I was selling in Diagon Alley, and she comes up to me, and asks if I've got a license for trading in magical artifacts, lousy snoop. Was gonna fine me, but she took a fancy to the locket an' told me she'd take, and let me off this time, and to count me blessings."

"Who was she?" Harry demanded.

"I dunno, some Ministry hag." After a little more thought, he remembered: "Little woman. Bow on the top of 'er head. Looked like a toad."

Harry lost his grip on his wand. It hit Mundungus on the nose, and shot sparks into his eyebrows, which ignited. He barely heard Hermione's spell to put the fire out, or Mundungus' splutters and chokes. The shock on his face was visible in Ron and Hermione's. Of all the enemies, they thought that they would end up facing again, the last one that any of them had given much thought to was Dolores Umbridge.

"Well," Ron remarked quietly. "Looks like we have to go into the Ministry after all."

They had find the Locket that had once belonged to Regulus Black; that much they were all agreed upon. What was causing the disagreement was whether they took this opportunity, and followed up on whatever plan Remus had for getting them on the portkey that led to California.

Hermione acknowledged that, personal grudges with the Watchers Council notwithstanding, Buffy Summers could probably be a huge help. She wasn't at all sure whether or not this weapon actually existed, she was more inclined to say that Dumbledore may have been trying, just as Harry had been with the Horcruxes, to keep whatever knowledge about his mission to himself. She couldn't figure out whether the key was of any meaning itself. (She had run a couple of magical tests on just case it had been a Horcrux, but as far as she could tell, there was nothing magical about it.) That said, she was inclined to believe that Voldemort, for all his evil, probably would make sure that the Horcruxes were never completely out of his reach. Hiding one in America, right next to one of the highest traffic areas for magical energy, seemed to be a risk that she didn't think the Dark Lord would take. More important, since almost all of the wizarding community in the States was considered half-blooded at best, she thought that his own prejudices might stop him from going there for any reason.

Ron acknowledged that Hermione had some good points (a rarity for him) but pointed out that, if they were go into the Ministry to find Umbridge, it made absolutely no sense to make a second trip back. He pointed that no matter how skilled their efforts would be in getting inside, once it was found out that they had infiltrated, security would be drawn up even tighter then it already was. Furthermore, even if there were no Horcruxes or magical weapons in Sunnydale (a point Ron was still not willing to yield), the Vampire Slayer was someone that could truly help. Also, no matter how long it took for Voldemort to consolidate his power, he'd probably send a battalion of Death Eaters to take out the Slayer regardless - the last thing he'd want is a potential wild card, considering how quickly he was strengthening the Magical forces within the country.

"Even allowing for this, how would we manage to get back into England?" Hermione countered. "He'll be damn sure to be guarding every portkey in Europe."

"We could just fly back," Harry knew where their minds were going, and pre-empted them. "I seriously doubt he's watching all of the airports, and it would be a lot easier to get through the muggle system of protection than anything the wizarding world puts up. "

Hermione argued the point if that was the case, there was no need to use the Ministry at all- just leave the country from Heathrow as soon as possible. She didn't argue this point that hard, however, because she knew it didn't hold much water.

"At the very least, this Buffy deserves to know what's coming, " Ron argued. "If these Watchers are anywhere near as incompetent as we boned up on them, they might not even have told her about this war at all. And you know they don't give much of a damn about protecting their Slayer."

Hermione wasn't putting up her strongest arguments, so Harry thought that she was trying very hard to come around to Ron's point of view. He also knew his friend well enough to realize that there was probably more to her argument then she was letting on, but he knew two things, one, that she would reveal it at the most strategic time, and two, she needed to know where Harry, who'd been quiet about this all through the discussion, was on all this.'

In actuality what Harry wanted to do was to try and persuade one or both of his friends to go off to California and liberate the Slayer, while did his damnedest to find the remainder of the Horcruxes by himself. He also knew that this was never going to happen - all for one and one for all was going to be their motto, probably to the bitter end. He also knew they'd go along with whatever his decision was, no matter how much they disputed it.

"Guess what it comes down to, Harry, is does it have to be us?" Hermione asked slowly. "Kingsley or Remus would probably be willing to get to the Slayer a lot quicker than we could."

Finally, Harry came to the decision that had been going through his head since they had started this discussion. "Dumbledore left me that key just like he left us everything else in the will," he said slowly. "Which means there's probably something very important in Sunnydale. Something that only we can find, even if we don't know what it means yet. For all we know, it's a way to destroy the Horcruxes once and for all- after all, we still don't know how destroy the locket even if we get it from Umbridge. "

"Hell, maybe the American wizards have some way to figure out how to detect these Horcruxes locations," Ron replied hopefully. "Dad did tell me that a lot of their wizards had gotten better at merging Muggle technology with magic."

Harry doubted that - if they had, Voldemort would have made tackling America his first priority, not his last- but they needed some hope in this adventure they were undertaking. "Anything's possible," he allowed reluctantly. "In any case, Sunnydale is the first solid lead we've had on anything. And I think that we have to play it out, before Voldemort gets a chance to shift his forces elsewhere. We have to figure it out now."

Ron didn't need much more convincing, and neither did Hermione, though Harry had to admit he was a little suspicious of her motives. "Which just leaves us the not inconsiderable problem of gaining access to the most secure Wizarding facility in the world," she finally allowed.

"Don't tell me that you haven't figured out some way of getting around that?" Ron replied, with a trace of his old Weasley gusto.

"As a matter of fact..."


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Of course, going from just the trace of an idea to a plan that could probably work was far more complicated.

One of their primary concerns was perhaps the most obvious: after they found a portkey that led to California, what was to stop Voldemort from immediately sending a contingent of Death Eater after them?

Ron, perhaps not surprisingly, figured out a way around it. Located in a room not far from the Chamber of Prophecies was a directory of known portkeys, showing where they were and where they led too.. They would figure out which one got them the closest to Sunnydale, and take it. Of course, that list had always been highly guarded even before the takeover of the Ministry; it was probably going to be ten times more difficult to get inside there now.

Hermione had found another not inconsiderable factor regarding that particular problem. If somewhat at the Ministry even guessed which portkey they were going to take, the end result would be disastrous. At the very least, it might cause Voldemort to accelerate his timetable when it came to invading America. While Ron's counterargument had been: "Well then, we better bloody well not leave any clues!" even he had to admit that this could be an issue.

It took them nearly five days to get around this particular problem, and by then the number of people lurking in the square surrounding Grimmauld Place had doubled. News from the Daily Prophet, that Snape had been confirmed as headmaster of Hogwarts, didn't do much to improve the general mood.

Hermione admitted her solution was more of a stopgap than anything else, and that the Order of the Phoenix, if they followed through, would be increasing their exposure considerably. But they had no choice - the spell they would need was one that would be difficult for a skilled Auror, much less a Hogwarts student who hadn't even graduated.

Hogwarts was on all their minds, not only with the ascension of Snape to Headmaster, but with the passage of the Hogwarts Express. None of them could shake the image of waiting on Platform Nine and 3/4, or of seeing Neville, Ginny and Luna all considering ways to undermine the new regime. For the first time, Harry considered the very real possibility that he might not ever see any of his old classmates ever again. He could tell it was on Hermione and Ron's mind as well.

Harry understood how important the execution of this plan was, but after the second week of watching the Ministry entrance under the safety of his Cloak of Invisibility, he said they couldn't put it off any further. He acknowledged how difficult it would be getting to the directory would be, but that the longer they put it off, the farther away the locket was going to get. After all, since it didn't open, there was good chance Umbridge had tossed it.

"We know everything important," Harry reminded them. "They've stopped Apparition coming and going out of the Ministry, and only senior Ministry members are allowed to connect to their home using the Floo Network. We have a good idea where Umbridge is. And we know you get in using those funny tokens or whatever they are."

"That gets us as far as Umbridge," Hermione reminded him . "It's going to be a lot harder getting near the directory."

"I realize it leaves an awful lot to chance, but that's going to be an issue now matter how long we take. It's been nearly six weeks; we have to act."

"All right, let's say we do this tomorrow," Ron countered. "How are we going to get the word to the Order? You said it yourself; someone needs to cover our tracks."

Harry admitted that this was the most uncertain part of the plan. It had been too dangerous to try and communicate with Ron's father while he was going in and out of the Ministry. Making contact with him while inside it was a move that could get him tossed into Azkaban. Ron was more than willing to risk his life for this plan; he wasn't sure whether he could risk the wellbeing of the rest of his family. Harry and Hermione had finally argued that no matter what happened, he would be in danger regardless. At least this way, Mr. Weasley could prepare himself, and he'd have a better chance.

"Remus was right," Ron finally replied. "There's no safety for any of us, is there?"

Harry was about to utter some words of comfort.,. when pain shot through the scar on Harry's forehead. His hand jumped to it, even though he tried to pass off the movement by brushing his hair out of his eyes. He brushed aside Kreacher's question of if he wanted his dinner, and excused himself.

In the back of his mind, he knew that Hermione was watching him suspiciously, but reality was falling more and more away from him, as he managed to make it into the bathroom, and bolted the door. Grunting in anguish, he slumped over the washbasin and closed his eyes...

_He was gliding in a dark alley. He'd seen some woebegone stretches of housing in his years, but this was low level for the Dark Lord._

_There were several men standing in a circle. He knew Voldemort was capable of moving silently through the night, but these people heard him anyway._

_They turned, and looked indifferent. Harry generally sensed moments of satisfaction when he and Voldemort were sharing memories, but this was different. He was irritated._

_"Half-breed," said a high cold voice. His voice was audible, but the men made no effort to answer; if anything, they seemed more irritated then him._

_"I expect an answer!"_

_"Your whole creature of the night bit," said an angry Cockney voice. "Doesn't really work when you're dealing with the real thing."_

_"I want the Seer."_

_"And what makes you think we know where to find her?" A different voice responded. "Hey, magic boy here thinks all vampires look alike!"_

_There was laughter here, but no fear. He grew angry. "I want Drusilla."_

_Now the laughter disappeared, and there was a sense of menace among them. "And what makes you think we'll listen to you, Tommy Boy?"_

_He readied himself. "Because of who I am!"_

_"Why should we?" Now the man's face changed; Harry was looking at the face of a demon._

_"You're only human!"_

_Any attempt at reason disappeared. He raised the wand, and uttered a spell. Yet even as he did so, Voldemort was dissatisfied. There was no way to make them suffer enough._

"Harry! HARRY!"

Harry began to rise from the floor. He must have shouted out. Very slowly, and with a splitting headache he didn't normally associate with a vision from his scar, he unbolted the door. Hermione all but fell in, and while she regained her balance, Ron followed behind her, looking unnerved as he pointed his wand in the chilly bathroom.

"What were you doing?" Hermione demanded.

Harry decided to skip the protests that he was fine; it clearly wouldn't fly with his closest friends. "What did I yell out?" he asked instead.

"Unmentionable half-breeds!" Ron replied.

"I just saw Voldemort trying to wipe out a group of people. They're all probably dead by now."

"Harry, you aren't supposed to let this happen anymore!" Hermione seemed about to launch into mother hen mode. "Dumbledore wanted you to use Occclumency. He thought the connection was dangerous! Besides, what's the point of watching him torture and kill?"

"That's just it," Harry replied. "Voldemort wasn't doing that."

Hermione stopped speaking for a moment. Ron carried on. "You just said he wiped out a group of people," he asked.

"Yeah, but I'm pretty sure that they were already dead before he went after them." Now that Harry could look at this in the light of day, something was very different about the vision.

"What are you saying?"

"I'm pretty sure that he was destroying a group of vampires." Harry replied.

This revelation actually managed to shut Hermione's mouth. Ron was positively gob-smacked as well. "What the hell was Voldemort looking for vampires for?"

It was a legitimate question. Considering how dark the creatures were and that they had been all but ignored by the Ministry for centuries, one would've thought that vampires would've been a legitimate recruit for Voldemort. But in both this war and the last one, none of the Death Eaters were making even an effort to win (non beating) hearts and minds. The most popular explanation was that considering that vampires were considered even lower than half-bloods, the Death Eaters had even less use for them. None of the intelligence on any side had involved the undead at all, and it seemed that this entire war might end with them being completely untouched. Considering what he had just seen, it looked like the feeling was mutual.

Something else tugged at Harry's memory as well. "Voldemort said that he was looking for Drusilla. He called her a seer," he told her.

"Drusilla," Ron considered this. "Why do I know that name?"

"Vampire, member of the Order of Aurelius, known companion of William the Bloody, and Angelus." Hermione replied dully. "Luna was particularly detailed when it came to do that report in Defense against the Dark Arts. Of course, it helped matters that we had some of the same material."

Neither of the other wizards in the room were surprised at Hermione's recital. "Voldemort was looking for her?" Ron asked. "Why?"

"He said she was a Seer," Harry looked at Hermione.

"She may be a Seer," Hermione replied. "She's also bloody crazy."

"Voldemort's looking for a crazy vampire oracle," Ron replied. "Which side do we root for in that particular struggle?"

Harry actually managed to smile at this- then he had a sudden picture of Voldemort as a vampire. It was not a mental image he wanted to hold on to for long.

"This makes no sense," Hermione replied. "With everything Voldemort has at his disposal now, why would he want to waste his time looking for a loose cannon like Drusilla?"

Harry thought that this was an excellent question; he also noticed that she had completely dropped the argument about seeing into Voldemort's mind. Which is why he was somewhat surprised when Ron spoke up.

"I think this is one of those things we're going to have to drop, at least for now," he told them both.

"Ron, I don't like saying this, but Harry may have a point. This is our first real lead on what Voldemort might be doing next," Hermione countered.

"I happen to agree with you," Ron replied. "Unfortunately, it doesn't change our present situation one bit. We still need to get to the Slayer, now more than ever. He's going after a crazy vampire, we may need Buffy Summers to figure out our next move. Which means was need to get into the Ministry tomorrow, and this plan needs to be perfect, don't you think?"

Hermione clearly could have argued the point, but she knew that there was a great deal of truth in the statement. They returned to the kitchen where Kreacher finished serving them dinner.

They didn't get to bed until very late that night, after spending hours going over and over their plans until they could recite it, by rote, to each other. Harry, who was now comfortable enough sleeping in Sirius' room, lay in bed with his wandlight trained on the old picture of his father and his friends for another ten minutes. When he finally extinguished his wand, he was not thinking of Polyjuice Potion, Nosebleed Nougats, or the robes of Magical Maintenance; he thought of why Voldemort , with everything that he wanted now well within his reach, was going after vampires that saw the future.

Did this have something to do with Voldemort's hunt for him?

Was this some kind of preemptive strike?

Dawn seemed to come far too soon. Harry wondered if he'd actually slept that night.

"You look awful," was Ron's greeting.

"Not for long," Harry counter, yawning.

Hermione was downstairs in the kitchen. She was being served coffee and hot rolls by Kreacher while wearing the slightly manic expression Harry associated with exam review. He found this oddly reassuring - Hermione's efforts almost always worked when she had that look on her face. "Robes, Polyjuice Potion, Invisibility Cloak, Nosebleed Nougat, Extendable Ears...

They barely seemed to taste their breakfast, as they set off upstairs, Kreacher promising to have a steak-and-kidney pie for them when they returned. Harry thought that they'd come a long way from thinking that the house-elf would murder them all in their sleep.

They made their way onto the front step with intense caution- already a couple of puffy-eyed Death Eaters were watching the house from across the morning fog.

Hermione Disapparated with Ron first, then came back for Harry.

After the darkness and suffocation passed, they found themselves in the tiny alleyway. Phase One was about to begin. The alley was deserted, except for a couple of large bins- the first Ministry workers didn't usually come until around eight.

"Five minutes. After I've stunned her-"

"We know, Hermione," Ron replied sternly. "How about we make sure the door is open first?"

Hermione squealed, pointed her wand at the door, and it burst open. From their previous scouting trips, they knew it lead into an empty theater. She pulled the door back towards her, making it look as though it was still close.

"Now, we put the cloak back on, and wait."

They didn't have to wait long. A witch Apparated feet from them. Before she could blink more than once, Hermione hit her with a silent Stunning Spell, and she fell over.

From this point on, it took less than ten minutes to take out the wizards that they chose, down the proper amount of Polyjuice potion, dress in the robes of the wizards they'd incapacitated, take the proper tokens from the employees, and walk to the entrance.

They were a little surprised to learn that the entrance involved utilizing the men's toilet, but they went in anyway. They were not at all encouraged to see that the Atrium near the entranceway was very dark, with a giant sculpture of a witch and wizard sitting on ornately carved thrones. Carved into the statue in foot-high letters were three words: MAGIC IS MIGHT. Upon closer examination, the thrones were revealed to be hundreds and hundreds of naked bodies: men, women, and children, all looking blank and disproportionate to support the wait of the far more handsome wizards.

"Muggles," Hermione whispered in a voice that sounded like she might be sick. "In their rightful place. Let's get out of here."

They joined the stream of witches and wizards moving towards the gate, but there was no sign of Umbridge anywhere.

The next part was far more difficult (not that anything that had happened already had been a cakewalk). Before, there hadn't been much in the way of security; now a Death Eater stood between every other elevator. Harry and the others could sense the fear rippling through them just being around them. The directory of Portkeys was located on level two - someone from the Minister's office had been assigned to guard it during Fudge's rain; none of them wanted to think how many guards were watching it now, or if there had been any additional safeguards put in play.

Very slowly, they walked into the nearest elevator. The lift moved upwards. A disembodied female voice began speaking: "Level Four, Department for Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, Goblin Liaison office, and Pest Advisory board." A couple of wizards got on, one nodded at Harry

"Level two, Department of Magical Law Enforcement, improper Use of Magic Office, Auror Headquarters, and Magical transportation Services."

This was where they had to get off, but just as the doors slid open, two more wizards got on - and one of them was Umbridge.

"Ah, Mafalda," She was looking directly at Hermione. "Travers sent you, did he?"

This definitely wasn't part of the plan. "Yes!" Hermione squeaked.

"Good, that's one problem resolved. If Mafalda can be spared for record keeping, we can begin straight away," She looked at the others. "Morning, Albert, aren't you getting out?"

On the one hand, Hermione could handle herself on her own if they were separated. But Harry knew that they had no plans on how to meet back up again if they did.

"Yes," Harry said, hoping like hell the person he was disguised as was named Albert.

"Well, hopefully, I'll see you before lunch then. Have to deal with those undesirables from Peckham." Putting her hand on Hermione's shoulder, the elevator doors closed behind her.

"Now what?" Ron demanded.

"Do what we came here to do," Harry whispered. "Where did Remus say he would place the tokens?"

Ron looked around. "Near the main office of Wizengamot Administration," he finally replied.

Remus had gotten a message from Ron's father that you needed a special kind of charm to get inside some of the higher level offices like the Directory. Even though Arthur had taken a demotion, he still had access to the higher levels. He had told Remus that he would conceal one in a glamour of a parchment and leave it in a wastebasket that was on the floor. When a maintenance person- like the one whose robes and form Ron had taken less than an hour earlier- emptied the basket as part of his duties, the token would be there. It would be a risk, of course, but one that they were willing to take.

Ron walked over to the wastebasket, and very carefully emptied it, surreptitiously grabbing the piece of parchment at the top of the basket. He barely had to put his hand in it before he came up with the disk. He then proceeded to walk by Harry, and carefully put it in his robe.

Considering all the effort that it had taken to get it, that had been the 'easy' part of the operation. Now they actually had to get inside the room with the Directory. They had decided that the easiest way to do it would be to cause a distraction- however minute they could manage; they didn't want to have that much attention focused on it- and have Harry or Ron get in, using the Invisibility Cloak. The halls of the Ministry were not especially crowded, but now there was a much greater consequence to being spotted. Furthermore, the idea of a quick and subtle exit had been shot to hell, with Hermione now being stuck in court proceedings, which would undoubtedly take hours.

Paying close attention to the names on the doors, Harry put the Cloak over his head. It wasn't an easy feat. The wizards whose form he'd taken was so tall, he had to stoop to make sure his big feet were hidden. Still, even moving very carefully, it only took him three minutes to reach his destination. The Magical Transportation office had only had one wizard guarding it that one time; now two Death Eaters were on duty.

This was where everything got extremely dangerous. Fortunately, Ron was the brother of Fred and George, and had learned a thing or two about surprising the opposition. He made his way back to the end of the hall, placing the wastebasket on the ground. He had gotten to the other side when the Decoy Detonator he had placed in it exploded. No one was hurt, but there was noise and a big mess - enough of one so that both of the guards were startled and began running towards the other end of the hall.

Harry didn't know how long he had, and he was hindered by the fact he couldn't run in his Invisibility Cloak in the form he was in. He made sure that both of them were by the other end of the hall before he inserted his token into the doorknob.

It was only when he got in there that he realized yet another flaw in the plan he and the others had spent weeks developing - the Directory was in several volumes, and they didn't have an index. Furthermore, Harry had no idea how long he had until someone with a genuine need to be here would show up. He was just going to have to hope that Ron continued to perform as flawlessly as he had, providing a distraction.

He took out his Extendable Ear. He had a horrible moment when he thought that it had been spotted, then he began to hear background noise from the hall outside. There was still a fair amount of uproar, along with a loud, disembodied voice (which sounded an awful like Cornelius Fudge) : "Remain calm! The Ministry has the situation well in hand!"

Despite himself, Harry couldn't restrain a snort - decorum before safety; the Ministry was going to be a bureaucracy whether it was in good hands or in bad.

The Portkey directory was kept on the top shelf in alphabetical order, not unlike a Muggle set of encyclopedias. Harry knew it was a long shot, but he went to the back of the 'S' volume first. He had to read several pages before he acknowledged that Remus had been right about one thing - there were no portkeys in or out of Sunnydale. If nothing else, looking at the 'S' volume showed him the layout of the directory- the destination you were headed to was next to the location of the portkey, along with a small map, denoting where the place was located.

Unfortunately, this led to yet another problem - how he was going to get the location of the portkey out of this room. Remus had told them that while there was no alarm around the room, should any of the books be removed from it, someone from security would be informed. Tearing out one of the pages wouldn't alert anyone, but when someone legitimately came to use the same volume, it would probably start the questions that they had been hoping to avoid. And just to make things perfect, Harry had no idea which cities were closest to Sunnydale. He did know that California was one of the biggest states geographically and population-wise, which meant that they could end up landing just about anywhere.

He gave a considerable sigh. He hoped Hermione was doing better getting the locket away from Umbridge. A spiteful part of him hoped that she could do it in a way that would cause the toad some real suffering.

Hermione was going through her own slow hell. -While heading into the dungeon which, until recently, had been used solely to hold people for improper use of magic, she had passed by several assistants working on pamphlets. She could only see the front of it, but it was enough to make her blood simultaneously boil and run cold: _Head of the Muggle Born Registration Commission. _

Umbridge had not noticed how quiet Mafalda had become, but then again, Hermione remembered how fond Dolores was of hearing her own voice. She therefore didn't notice when a horrible chill momentarily overcame Hermione as they entered the courtroom. The passageway was packed full of Dementors- Hermione had never seen so many gathered in one place. Looking at how terrified the prisoners were, she had never been more aware of being Muggle-born. There wouldn't be even the niceties of a hearing if she were to be found here- the Dementors would kiss her and it would be over.

It had taken all of her willpower to remain in control as she had walked into the courtroom. It was a much smaller room, though the ceiling was high: it gave the impression of being stuck at the bottom of an abyss.

When Umbridge finally took her place behind a balustrade, it took all of Hermione's energy to walk behind the parchment and inkwell. For there were even more Dementors here, casting their freezing aura everywhere. Then Umbridge had taken her place, and a bright silver, long haired cat, prowling up and down, walked freely. It was Umbridge's Patronus, she had no doubt, and it was glowing brighter than any magical creature had any right to in what amounted to a chamber of horrors. But then again, why shouldn't Umbridge feel safe? This was her perfect environment, upholding the perversion of a code that she had deemed to write.

"Bring forth Mary Cattermole," Umbridge called forth.

A woman whose face had gone shades of white Hermione had never seen appeared. Even with all the Dementors here, it was almost bearable in her place on the docket. Why shouldn't it be? The Patronus was here to protect Umbridge from the despair of the Dementors. That was for the persecutor, not the persecuted.

"You are Mary Elizabeth Cattermole, married to Reginald Cattermole of the Magical Maintenance Department?"

Mrs. Cattermole lost whatever control she had, and burst into tears. "Where's my husband? He was to meet me here!"

Umbridge showed no sympathy. "Mother to Maisie, Ellie, and Alfred?"

Mrs. Cattermole sobbed harder than ever. "They're frightened, they think I might not come home!"

"Why should we care about the spawn of Mudbloods?" the man on the other side of Umbridge replied.

Anger was beginning to replace the fear that had been in Hermione's heart. She had always wanted to believe that she was a good person at heart, but she was feeling rage in her that she hadn't felt even towards Severus Snape or Lucius Malfoy. For the first time in her life, she almost felt capable of killing someone, and not even with the Avra Kevedra or any of the killing curses she had been, until now, afraid to use. (The irony of using a Dark Art on the woman who had prided herself on not teaching them while at Hogwarts was not lost on her, even within the rage.) No, she wanted to place her hands around Umbridge's neck and squeeze.

The anger she felt was so strong she was amazed that Umbridge didn't notice, but she was so intent on her prey, she was immune to it.

"A wand was taken from you upon your arrival at the Ministry, Mrs. Cattermole, " the great toad was saying. "Eight-and -three-quarters inches, cherrywood, unicorn hair core. Do you recognize that description?"

Cattmerole managed to stop sobbing long enough to acknowledge this.

"From which witch or wizard did you take that wand?"

"T-took?" the unfortunate woman said. "I didn't t-take it from anyone. I b-bought it when I was eleven. It - it _chose_ me."

If ever she had lacked for proof that Dolores Umbridge had a heart of stone, it came when she uttered a soft girlish laugh at what she had reduced this woman to.. She leaned over the barrier, and something gold swung forward, and dangled over the void: the locket.

This time, Hermione could not restrain the squeak that emerged, but she had a feeling a small bomb could go off, and neither inquisitor would notice.

"No, no, I think not, Mrs. Cattermole. Wands only choose witches or wizards, and you are neither. I have your responses to the questionnaire that was sent to you - Mafalda, if you would."

Umbridge held our hand. For a brief but frightening moment, Hermione had forgotten who she was pretending to be. Hoping that Umbridge hadn't noticed either that or her shaking hands, she very carefully fumbled through a pile of documents before she finally withdrew a sheaf of parchment with Cattermole's name on it. "That's- very pretty, Dolores," she said, pointing at the pendant.

"What?" Umbridge snapped. "Oh yes- a family heirloom," she said quietly. "The _S _stands for Selwyn- - a relation on my great-uncle's side. Indeed, there are few pure-blood families to whom I am not related... A pity," and just like that her focus was on the matter at hand, "that the same cannot be said for you. _Parents' professions: greengrocers."_

It took a level of restraint that until this moment Hermione hadn't known she had to stop her from trying to throttle Umbridge with the chain the locket was attached to. It probably wouldn't have been enough to kill, and all it would do was get her captured and killed, but at that moment, hearing this _amphibian_ use a locket that she had taken as a bribe to bolster her own credentials as a pure-blood was overwhelming every sense of caution that she had. She focused every bit of her being on the problem that had brought her here, and which, despite all their weeks of planning, she had never come up with a resolution for.

How did she get this Horcrux out of Umbridge's clutches?

Harry had no idea how much longer he could afford to look - it felt like he'd been in this room for hours already, and he was no closer to finding the Portkey they needed then when they'd started. California was apparently a greater crux of dark magic than Remus had let on - San Francisco was an epicenter of several great witches, and half of Los Angeles was under the purview of malevolent dark magic in its own right.

He was about to consider the option of finding a transport hub in an adjoining state when suddenly he saw what might their only possibility. It took Harry several seconds to look at this before he realized that this could make the trip into Ministry seem like a pleasure cruise, but they had no choice. They had to get there. Fast.

And it was just as he realized he was on the page that he needed that he heard the sound of footsteps in the halls. "This place is secure?" a deep voice demanded.

Before they could even acknowledge the voice, Harry put the book back, dashed behind the door, and yanked the Invisibility Cloak over his body. No sooner had he done so then it opened and in walked a tall man in deep purple robes. Harry barely managed to smother a gasp: the wizard was none other that Pius Thicknesse, the new Minister of Magic.

Thicknesse barely spared a glance, before he opened the door further and one of the Death Eaters himself walked inside. Now Harry felt trapped, and realized that he wasn't going to get another chance. As quickly as possible, he made his way out into the halls, and slammed himself against it, trying to make his overgrown disguise take up as little space as possible. Fortunately, the chaos that Ron had caused finally seemed to have died down, and the halls were empty. Very carefully, he removed the Cloak, and removed the small piece of paper.

Harry still didn't know the magic involved in the creation of the device Ron had given him - only that it bore resemblance to the Marauder's Map his father and his friends had used while they had been in attendance at Hogwarts. The people that Harry was going to be searching out would have equated it with carbon paper in their world. Whatever the logic, he had a very real, albeit blotchy copy of the page that had the Portkey on it. He'd have to find a way to locate it on a real map, but that was a matter for another day. Right now, they had to regroup and get out of the Ministry.

He looked around for Ron for several moments before he saw the Magical Maintenance Man whose identity Ron had assumed, soaking wet. "Where the hell were you?" Harry whispered.

"They called me into someone's office. Some bloody fool cast a raining spell in it, and I had to clean it up." Harry just looked at his friend. "I wasn't exactly in a position to say no."

"Let's just get Hermione and get out of here," Harry whispered.

Ron nodded, and the two of stepped into a lift. Ron was about to ask Harry something when he blinked several times, and nearly did a double take.

When Harry saw who it was, he could hardly blame him. Ron's father was standing there. Now they were in for it. Even though the plan was proceeding with Arthur's help, Remus had taken care to only communicate with him via owl, and in ciphers at that. Arthur knew something was going on in the Ministry, but he didn't know who, and certainly not that his own son was involved. Now Harry was beginning to wonder if this omission could end up costing them everything.

Mr. Weasley didn't see through either glamour, but he did focus his attention on Ron. "Hello, Reg," he said slowly. "Isn't your wife in here for questioning?" Before Ron could respond, he asked why 'Reg' was soaked. Harry wasn't sure, but given the look of an intense dislike that Ron's father had fixed him with, he was certain that Arthur bore a grudge against his disguise.

Ron didn't dare say anything (he was certain that if he looked into his father's eyes, his cover would be blown), so he just talked about meteorological spells until the lift got to the next level, and quickly departed. Harry tried to get off as well, but Mr. Weasley blocked his path. "A moment, Runcorn," he said frostily.

Harry had managed to make it this far without having his disguise challenged; he didn't want to blow it now. He nodded.

"You're the one who ratted out Dirk Creswell, didn't you?"

This could go very badly. Denial seemed pointless, so he just replied., "So what if I did?"

"Creswell's ten times the wizard you'll ever be." Ron's father's voice was barely louder than a whisper; nevertheless, Harry would have to be deaf to not notice the anger within it. "If he survives Azkaban, you'll have to answer to him, not to mention his wife, his sons, and his friends-"

Harry wasn't going to get off this elevator without a dressing-down, but the idea of this bringing down their plans was an even greater concern. "You read Skeeter's latest article?" he said quickly.

"I never believed half the garbage she put into print," Mr. Weasley sounded even angrier at this.

"Neither did I," By now, they were at the bottom floor. "Don't judge a book by its cover."

This actually shut Ron's father up; Harry hoped he hadn't given away too much at this. They reached the Atrium in relative silence. Harry got off, hoping like hell Hermione had managed to get through her exposure to Umbridge intact.

Hermione was being torn by two impulses - she needed to get the locket away from Umbridge, and maneuver a safe exit, but she wanted to find a way to get the accused out of here in one piece. She had spent the last five minutes realizing this probably wouldn't be possible and convincing herself that allowing this woman to be a casualty in the war against Voldemort was the only thing that she could do.

"All right, Mrs. Cattermole, we are finished," Umbridge gave a smile that wouldn't have been out of place on a lion. "Give us a few moments before we render our verdict."

Never had the phrase _witch hunt _had more meaning. This woman had been doomed the second she'd walked in the door.

Then an idea occurred to Hermione. It was terrible. It was cruel. But it was a lesser evil to be committed to stop a much worse one. That's what Hermione told herself later, but it still didn't help her sleep later on. The memory of the expression on Mrs. Cattermole's face would prevent that. FWIW, it's not clear what this 'lesser evil' is here – should it be at this point? Or is this foreshadowing, her moment of choice to go ahead and use the time travel spell?

She turned to Umbridge, holding on to her control with everything she had. "I should probably get these notes to the Minister," she told her.

"Go right ahead," Dolores told her. "We just need to decide the appropriate sentence."

Hermione wondered if Umbridge knew she was directly following a well-known Muggle writer's twisted idea of justice. She decided that she would settle for doing anything that would momentarily wipe that ghastly grin off her old instructors face. "Yes, Dolores," she said, pausing to drop a small object in the wastebasket by her feet.

Hermione walked as swiftly as she dared, not sure how much time she had. She had just gotten through the door when the Decoy Detonator went off.

The Dementors started moving in their collective fashion. Hermione reached the door, where the wretched Mary Cattermole stood, looking up. "Run," she whispered in her ear.

She then ducked back inside. The explosion had caused more damage in the confined space, but the worst it had done was smudge Umbridge's makeup. It had also torn the chain off her locket. She walked as close as she dared, and, while Yaxley and Umbridge were assessing their damage, she took it.

As she exited, she saw several guards approaching: "Someone tried to attack the Commission!" she shouted. "Make sure they're all safe!

At that moment, some of the other prisoners had taken notice of what was happenng and were trying to run away. Hermione saw Harry's disguise walk in, looking a little perplexed.

"Where's Ron?" she whispered.

"Second floor," Harry replied.

"We need to leave. _Now."_

Harry needed no second bidding. Unfortunately, she hadn't gotten ten feet when she muttered: "Damn it."

She took out the locket and uttered "_Geminio!" _A likeness of the locket appeared. Hermione tossed it towards the open door.

Then she saw something that made her heart hurt - Mrs. Cattermole was paralyzed by the aura of the Dementors. She had no idea how long Harry had been standing there, but he got the message, and shouted: "Expecto Patronum!"

The silver stag soared from Harry's wand and leaped towards the Dementor.

If anything, Mrs. Cattermole seemed even more frightened. "I don't understand," she whispered.

"You're leaving with us," Hermione replied. "You saw what was going on in there. Go home, get your children, and start running as fast, as far as you can. There's no hope for justice here."

"But- my husband- the others-?"

"There's no time," Harry replied. "We have to go now."

Hermione cast the spell for her Patronus, and the remaining Dementors began to fall back. Suddenly, she realized that while this the gallant thing to do, it would draw all the wrong time of attention to them.

Just to make things worse, at that moment, the elevator clanked to a halt in front of them. "Reg!" Mrs. Cattermole yelled, and threw herself into Ron's arms. "We have to get out of here. Get the children, get out of the country. I think we have to do it, Reg - why are you soaking wet?"

With a sudden horror, Hermione realized whose identity Ron had taken to get into the Ministry. That, however, seemed about to be the least of their problems. "Harry, the last couple of Decoys we set off have attracted the Ministry's attention. They're about to lock the place down. I think we have maybe five minutes before-"

Hemione's Patronus vanished so quickly it might have been comic under other circumstances. "Harry, if we're trapped here-"

"We won't be,." Harry was undergoing the same mental torment too. Then he recalled who he was supposed to be, and that subtlety probably wasn't the best tactic. "Get on the elevator. Now! We have to move fast. " _What the hell. _"Everybody who has a wand needs to go with someone who doesn't. Come on."

Everybody who was being held prisoner began making a beeline for the elevators. Somehow, they all managed to cram themselves into two lifts, and they started heading for the Atrium. Harry lowered his voice as much as Runcorn could. "Get yourself to the front as fast as you can."

As soon as they were on the eighth level, they realized things were as bad as they'd thought. All the wizards were sealing the fireplaces one by one.

"STOP!" The powerful voice of Runcorn echoed through the Atrium:, and the wizards stopped their actions. "The Minister has charged us with getting this lot out before you seal the exits," Harry said with all the authority he could muster.

Now the wizards looked nervous. "We've been told to seal all exits and not let anyone-"

"_Are you contradicting me?" _Harry bellowed. "Or should I have the Commission examine your family tree, like I did Creswell?"

The wizard backed away in apology . "I'm sorry, Albert, it 's just I thought- you brought them in for questioning- I merely?"

"Their blood is pure," Harry said in a voice, daring contradiction. "Purer than many of yours, I dare say. Go!" The Ministry wizards hung back.

"Harry," Ron said. "Next lift'll be here any second-"

"_Go!" _Harry demanded.

Ron jumped into the fireplace, dragging 'his 'wife' in after him. "You know what we talked about?"

"Harry, I don't know if I can," Hermione seemed almost frantic now.

"We don't have a choice,." He grabbed her hand, and they jumped into the fireplace. They spun for a few seconds before shooting up out of the toilet into a cubicle. Ron was struggling with Mrs. Cattermole, frantically telling her he wasn't her husband. "DO IT!"

He grabbed Ron by the hand, and Hermione by the arm. As they began to disapparate, Hermione shouted:

"Tempus Malefesum!"

Darkness engulfed them, along with the sensation of compression. Harry thought for a moment his head was going to explode; he couldn't breathe, and everything was slipping away.

The Ministry was in uproar over the breach. The place was full of theories and everyone knew that someone's head- possibly Albert Runcorn's- was going to roll. The major theory was that someone from the order of the Phoenix had led some kind of assault to protest the anti-Muggle policies. Maisie Cattermole had an automatic execution order over her head now.

Dolores Umbridge was quick to argue this was impossible, saying that none of the students at Hogwarts- not even Undesirable Number One - was capable of this kind of magic. Polyjuice Potion was an amateur trick, but every spell that Harry did left some kind of trace, and whatever Disapparation spells they had used left absolutely no trace - spells that not even a Hogwarts graduate was capable of casting.

The spell used to escape the Ministry had many people concerned, Rumors had spread that someone had used temporal magic, but this was quickly quashed. Rumors of just this kind of magical power had been the kind of thing the Ministry was trying to avoid.

It was bad enough that these violators could now be anywhere. They could be anywhen, too.


	4. Chapter 3

After the mess during third year, Hermione had sworn off any magic related to Time Turning. But Harry and Ron knew better than anyone else that Hermione was incapable of letting anything go completely. Hermione had been reluctant to use these skills even given the gravity of the situation, emphasizing how dangerous this kind of magic could be in the best of circumstances, and that it was particularly dangerous to do while apparating.

the trick had worked- a little too well for Hermione's taste. Hermione had meant to push them to a different location a few hours into the future. Instead, they had ended up in a vacant lot nearly ten miles away from 12 Grimmauld Place, a full week after they had invaded the Ministry. When Hermione learned amount the disparity, she had been nearly frantic, certain she might have done something horrible to the fabric of time. It had taken an enormous amount of effort to persuade her they were going to be all right.

It had helped when they had managed to return to the Black Residence, though by now the wizards who had been watching that area had given up any pretense at subtlety. There were over a dozen shifting every eight hours. Harry could only be thankful they had been lucky when they'd returned; any closer, they might have ended up literally on top of them.

When they finally made it back to their home base (where Kreacher had been considerably frantic [for] the last seven days) Hermione had collapsed from the effort of exertion- she had been all but useless for the next thirty-six hours. Thus, it was ten days since the raid on the Ministry before they were ready to resume the next leg of their journey.

Harry was hardly idle during that time. He and Ron studied the page he had copied from the Directory, and finally managed to pin down the exact location of the Portkey they were going to need to get to California. Located in a quarry in Hampshire, it would get them the closest to Sunnydale. The bad news was that even the closest leap was still over a hundred miles away from the Hellmouth. And none of this gave them any clue what the key they had gotten was supposed to open or if they would be able to get any further information on the Slayer.

When Hermione was back to full strength, she had to deliver even more bad news. Because none of them had ever been to the location of the Portkey, the only secure way to get there was to walk to it. Even more frustrating, the quickest possible trip was going to take them another three to five days to get there, and that was assuming they could find a safe path. The news from the Daily Prophet suggested that the Ministry was now offering a reward of twenty thousand Galleons for the Llocation of Undesirables, with an additional five thousand if they were brought in alive. None of them thought that this was because Voldemort was going to be merciful when they were brought before him.

they were now faced with a much longer journey with no clear idea when or even if they'd be able to return. There was no news in the Prophet about what was happening in America, but just because it was not involved in the war didn't mean that there would be any fewer pitfalls when they got there. There was also the concern about how they were going to survive - they didn't have much money, and going to Gringotts or any similar banks was out of the question. Plus the wizarding communities in Los Angeles - which was where the portkey went - were even more subterranean, and they had no idea how they would make contact with them. Worse, the community of darker magical creatures- not just vampires, but werewolves, zombies and demons- were said to be on the rise, particularly on the West Coast. Just because the war had not affected America didn't make it any less dangerous.

The bitter icing on this particularly tasteless dessert was that none of them had any idea how to destroy the Horcrux they had labored so hard to obtain. They had tried using all manner of spells to try to open the locket, but all of their efforts had proven for naught. Not even Kreacher's magic had been able to make so much as a dent in it..

October was just beginning when they decided they couldn't afford to stall any longer. They would have to get the best provisions that they could manage and head for the portkey. Once they were in Los Angeles, they would find a way to regroup and get to Sunnydale. It wasn't the best plan, but as Ron put it: "We're in enough danger if we just stay here. Things can't get any worse if we make it to Los Angeles."

They had no idea just how wrong they were. Or that this was only the first in a long line of understatements about what the supernatural community across the sea was like

Considering the hell he'd put them through most of the time, saying goodbye to Kreacher was a lot harder than they'd thought it would be. They were actually concerned what might happen to him if the Death Eaters did manage to find their way past the security, but most of it was because he was likely to be the last friendly- or, for that matter, familiar - face that they were going to see for a very long time. But getting word to anyone else about Kreacher was out of the question, as they had reluctantly agreed - anyone in the Order of the Phoenix would be under ten times more scrutiny after their raid on the Ministry

Kreacher's last act of good will was to provide them with enough food and drink, which they managed to fit into one of the bags, for a fortnight Ron actually shook hands with the house-elf before they left, telling him that it might be in his best interest to leave the Black home for a while. Harry wasn't surprised that Kreacher said no, but, if the last two months had proved nothing else, it was that the elf could take care of himself.

A trip of a hundred miles on foot shouldn't have taken long, even for Muggles. But Harry, Hermione and Ron had far more obstacles to face than just the long trek. For starters, they had to keep themselves hidden from just about everybody, wizard or Muggle. This meant that they had to take back roads and most indirect paths. Ron had argued that it might be safer for them to travel at night, until he read in the Daily Prophet that the Ministry was beginning to enforce curfews for half-bloods. The last thing that they needed were questions about three wizards wandering at all hours, so they traveled carefully.

Then there was their destination - none of them knew how to get there. Harry thought that the easiest way to handle things was by traveling through the more Muggle parts of London - horrible things were going on in the wizarding community, but for the most part the average Englishman had no more idea that there was a war being fought than would your average dog. Still, taking the buses or Metro to Hampshire wasn't possible - the average conductor wasn't going to hand over a train ticket for Galleons and Sickles.

None of them felt much safer in Muggle towns -, walking the so-called normal places s left them feeling like aliens in their own country. Having lived much of his life with the Dursleys, Harry had an idea what the 'real world' was like. But having immersed himself so deeply in the magical community, not even he could explain some of the major changes that had taken place. much of time, he felt like a stranger in a strange land.

Part of it was the technology. Ron, in particular, would turn cock-eyed when he saw things like televisions and computers in shop windows, or people talking on phones that fit in people's pockets. But it was what Harry didn't see that made him feel this disconnect. No one in robes, no wands, newspapers and book covers on which the illustrations didn't move and wink.

everything seemed so normal. After the last few years, Harry had gotten used to seeing people walking around with an aura of fear and unease about them- an added edge of nervousness. Here the average person seemed so - at ease. Some of them were tense and upset, some were openly hostile, but none of them were afraid. And why should they be? None of them knew that a war was being waged that might well determine the fate of the world. None of them knew that there was a magical world at all. And, even though Harry couldn't know this for sure, he had a feeling that none of them would particularly act differently even if they did.

Part of him - not a very substantial one, but it was definitely there - wanted to walk up to somebody, anybody- grab them by their lapels and shake them and yell: "Don't you know what's going on? Don't you know how much danger you're all in?" the Muggles' indifference bothered him more than the fear he'd seen on wizards being subjugated by Dementors . He realized why eventually. These were the people he and his friends were fighting for, and they seemed like sheep. He honestly didn't think they would care, no matter which way the war turned out. And that, not fear for anybody's safety, made him want to spend less time around them.

They had agreed not to try anything further with the locket, until they could gain access to a decently sized magical library. Since they knew that America had less access to magical texts than in Europe or Asia., destroying the Horcrux was a problem for another day.

But it wasn't until their fourth day on the road that they got a sense of what some of their other problems might be.

Tempers were already short by the time it happened. In order to cut ten miles from their journey, Hermione had decide to cut through a public park. Since they'd spent most of the last couple of days in civilization - even if they weren't staying in Muggle residences or showering in hot water, it had been a comfort to at least know they were _there- _Ron had not been in the best of spirits, saying this wasn't going to help their chances of being inconspicuous. (Since it was the early afternoon, and it looked like they were the only people in the park, he did have a small point.)

Harry wasn't feeling much better himself. The last few hours a small headache had been playing around his temples. There hadn't been much in the way of conversation today - he thought that for the first time, it was really beginning to hit his companions how long a quest they were engaged in, and how much damage might fall by the wayside before it came to an end.

"You sure we're going the right way?" Ron asked for what seemed to be the tenth time so far.

"You want to look at the compass yourself?"

"It's just that all the bloody trees look alike."

"This is why you always did so badly in Plants and Herbs," Hermione reminded him. "They are not the same. We passed a larch and a dogwood five minutes ago, the two trees coming up are a birch and an oak."

"See, one of the reasons I agreed to go on this little venture was to avoid having to learn more botany lessons." Ron had obviously meant this as a joke, but as soon as he said all of the three remembered Hogwarts, and how badly they would like to be learning Magical Creatures or Potions or even History of Magic. School had real life beat every possible way.

Harry didn't much care for the silence, and was about to ask Hermione why she had been so mad to go after the Slayer, when the headache that had been bothering him got a lot worse.

"Harry, are you all right?" Hermione must have noticed the color rushing out of his face"Is it your scar again?"

Harry had a few moments to think that he wasn't sure. His scar would start prickling when he was about to have a vision of Voldemort; this pain felt more like the start of a very bad headache. Then suddenly, it worsened to the point he felt that his skull would surely split in two.

"_I demand to be seen!"_

_The voice that spoke was small and timid. "Mr. Manners' gave strict instructions not-"_

_"Don't touch me, you filthy mudblood!"_

_There was a flash of light, and Harry was aware of his surroundings. For a moment, he thought he was back in the Ministry because of the business-like appearance. Then he saw a group of men rushing forward, one in a suit and a tie, the rest in security uniforms. This was a Muggle establishment._

_And on the floor was a muggle, blood pooling from her ears._

_"Was that strictly necessary?" Considering what had just happened, the Muggle in the suit seemed unusually calm. "I realize a wizard in your position has certain standards, but so do we. And ours have been around a bit longer."_

_"Mr. Manners, what do you want us to do?" the man in uniform._

_"Nothing," Manners- if that was his name- replied, heaving a sigh. "My two o'clock has just arrived a bit early. Just tell human resources I'm going to need another secretary."_

_This was a level of coldness Harry wasn't sure even Malfoy was capable of. "All right, you've made your point," Manners said very calmly. "What can I do for you?" He deliberately hesitated. "Mr. Riddle."_

_Voldemort whirled around. "I would watch your tone, Muggle. Just because I deign to grant you my presence doesn't mean that I will tolerate such insolence, even from those who claim to help."_

_"Well, I favor frank exchanges between Wolfram and Hart and its clients. Here's one for you." All the civility disappeared from Manners voice. "Don't mistake your rank and title as giving you much leeway. I acknowledge that you are a big fish, but I would remind you, compared to some of our clientele, it is still in a relatively small pond. One, I might add, that is currently shrinking because of your own actions."_

_Harry couldn't understand what Voldemort was doing here; why he was standing for it. "I would remind you of your place-" Voldemort began._

_"I'm well aware of my position here." His voice got colder. "Are you? Perhaps you'd like to have a discussion with the senior partners about this very issue?"_

_It took Harry a long moment to recognize the tingle that was in the back of Voldemort's mind. He was disconcerted. It was a tingle of fear. But he would be damned if he showed any sign of weakness to a Muggle, even one as highly placed as this one. "You know what this is about," he demanded._

_"We've been keeping abreast of the situation from this branch, so yes," Manners was back to all business. "We have the information you need, but it comes with a proviso. I know you don't like it, but please keep in mind, we have our own timetables, and we will not accept interference with some of our other clients."_

_"Where is the one I seek?"_

_"Brazil, rainforest near this location." Manners paused, holding out a piece of paper. "And that is the limit of our involvement. We don't make deliveries. Especially involving this particular woman."_

_"I am engaged in a war, Mr. Manners, I don't have time to tear apart South America. !" _

_"That's not our problem." Manners seemed unusually calm considering that he had just defied the most dangerous wizard alive. "This creature plays a significant role in a number of our own prophesies. I only obtained this information under the condition that, after you find her, you don't harm a hair on her head." He held up a hand to fend off a further tirade. "Hurt her, or her companion, and there will be consequences. One that will make your maneuvers seem like playground games. We absolutely clear, _Thomas_?"_

_The Voldemort Harry Potter knew would have skinned this man alive long ago. This Voldemort, angry as he was, seemed to feel that he was being held in check. He took the paper and Disapparated in a cloud of smoke so fast Harry hardly realized what had happened._

_"They never say thank you," Manners heaved another sigh, then looked at the floor. "He could've at least cleaned up after himself. It's always a bitch getting blood out of the carpet."_

Harry began to come back to himself, and was not surprised to find himself prostate on the ground, his friends standing over him with concern and fear etched into their faces. He was a little unnerved himself, only this time it wasn't from the carnage that he had seen.

He had to explain what he had seen a couple of times to Ron and Hermione, because for the first time, they were doubting whether this was a vision of something Voldemort was doing.

"You saw that statue in the Ministry. They couldn't have put the idea of purebloods better if they tried," Hermione reminded him. "Why would he go himself to see Muggles, much less to ask for their aid?"

"And you're sure he was afraid?" Ron seemed to be having a little more difficulty getting his mind around this. "What has he got to be afraid of? He's got the magical world in the palm of his hand."

Harry wasn't sure, either. But something that man Manners had said kept coming back to him- "a small pond, which keeps shrinking." He decided to ask Hermione because he thought that there was a much better chance that she would know.

"Hermione, if you had to guess, how many Wizards are there?"

For once, she didn't seem to have the fact at her fingertips. "Where? England? Europe?"

"All together." When Hermione hesitated, he joked. "You're telling me that fact wasn't in _Hogwarts: A History_?"

"It's just- I don't think I've ever given it much thought. Well, the last census was take ten years ago, and given everything that's happened the last few years, I imagine it's fluctuated quite a bit."

"Guess, Hermione, I have a feeling this is important," And suddenly Harry wondered why he'd never asked this question before.

"Somewhere between sixteen and seventeen million," Hermione replied. "At least that was the estimate around the time of the last census. I imagined it's shrunk a bit over the last few years, maybe by as much as another million."

"That's all?" Harry demanded.

Ron instantly took this the wrong way. "I'm glad that the slaughter of thousands of wizards doesn't matter so much-"

Harry couldn't understand how none of this had ever even entered to any part of their discussions. "How many of them are in England?"

A light began to dawn in Hermione's eyes, and why shouldn't it? Her parents were Muggles; she would always have a foot in that world. "Five million, maybe six."

"What does any of this have to do with-"

"Ron, in America, there are cities that have that many people. _Hundreds _of millions of people live in America," Hermione replied. "That's why Voldemort isn't concentrating on the U.S. right now. He'll never have the number of people for a direct assault, especially if he insists on these pureblood restrictions."

Hope- an emotion that none of them had allowed themselves to feel for months- began to rise in their hearts. "But we've been reading about these attacks in the Muggle community in England for years," she argued. "He obviously doesn't think it'll be a problem"

"That's got to be why he's been making such a concentrated effort to recruit other groups of magical creatures," Harry said. "He needs manpower, or giants or werewolves and all the other dark creatures that he can get to align with him. He's trying to raise a dark army, but he doesn't have anywhere near enough forces for it."

"How can you be so sure?" Hermione demanded.

"Whoever those Muggles were, they have to represent something big in the supernatural world," Harry reasoned. "Something that deals with a much more significant force than whatever numbers Voldemort has."

Hermione tried to figure this out. "Do you have any idea where that place was?" she asked.

"Whoever they were, they were extremely cold," he responded. "I know that we might have to make alliances with whoever we can, but if they had Voldemort on edge, I don't want to think how dangerous they might be."

Hermione clearly disagreed with this point, but before she could put forth a counterargument, they were all set upon by a far more pressing concern.

"_CRUCIO!"_

All three of them managed to leap clear of the spells that were shot in their direction.

They had no time to even wonder how the Death Eaters had found them, or how much of their conversation they had heard. All they could do was split up and disapparate as fast as they could.

Harry had no idea where his friends were, or if they'd be able to come up with some kind of rendezvous point later on. Because all of a sudden his focus narrowed on the Death Eater that was chasing him - it was someone whose face would be forever etched in his nightmares.

"You foolish little boy," Bellatrix Lestrange told him. "I don't know what you thought you were doing trying to interfere with the Master's plan, but it's going to end. Here and now." She gave an insane cackle that grated on Harry like fingernails over a chalkboard.

Harry knew that even now he was still no match for Bellatrix magically - he wanted her dead more than ever, but still wasn't sure that he had it in him to kill- so he decided to see if he could throw a little uncertainty into that loose-brained head of hers.

"Has he told you what his plan is yet? Doesn't he think you deserve to know?"" Harry demanded.

"Don't try to toy with me," Bellatrix replied.

"Did you know that your Dark Lord's been associating with half-breeds and Muggles? That there are people even he has to answer to.?"

A flicker of uncertainty appeared on the dark wizard's face. "You don't know what you're talking about," Bellatrix said slowly.

"Do you even know where your lord is now? Has he told you any of your merry band where he goes on his long trips?"

For a split second, Bellatrix looked puzzled, and her defenses went down for a moment. In that instant, Harry might have been able to utter a Killing Curse that not even she could've blocked. But despite all that she had done to him, and all the darkness that was in him, he still didn't think that there was a killer inside him.

So he cast "Stupefy!" with all the strength he could muster. And without waiting to see whether it landed or not, he disapparated.

Harry would not learn the ramifications of his actions for months, but even after he found out he realized that he still couldn't have acted in any other way.

Ever since they had started on this leg, they had planned on how to deal with just this kind of incident. Each of them eventually apparated back to the previous day's stopping point, which fortunately wasn't that far away. Once they reunited (which took a couple of hours; they had tried to leave a complicated trail in order to throw off their pursuers) they hid in Muggle territory until nightfall, figuring that their pursuers would be less inclined to track them into public areas.

(after setting up a tent under an Invisibility Charm and Mufflato spells), the three of them tried to figure out how the Death Eaters had gotten a lead on them after more than a fortnight. Harry was sure that it had something to do with the vision he'd had prior to that, but Hermione pointed out that if that were the case, the Death Eaters would have invaded Twelve Grimmauld Place before their raid on the Ministry. Ron was more concerned as to how long they had been watched. They had been in a relatively open air, and had not heard the sound of someone apparating. He thought that someone might be tracking them. when night came, and still no Death Eaters came to grab them, he said they'd have to take even greater precautions, if such a thing were possible. Both Harry and Hermione agreed with this.

In order to try and shake any eyes they might have, they didn't apparate back to the forest they'd been in. Instead, they decided to take an alternative path which would add another half a day to their trip. This probably wouldn't shake a determined Death Eater, but absent any clear idea what had inspired their arrival, they had take whatever measures they could.

While they were en route, Hermione told them what little she knew of the Wizarding community in America. A large part of the wizarding community lived out in the open, compared to everywhere else. She didn't think you could find them in the phone book, but a lot of the Wizards in America didn't believe in using memory charms on Muggles to hide their existence. The Muggle Government supposedly had a branch that was devoted entirely to dealing with supernatural powers, though she thought this was more rumor than actual fact.

The magical community was also supposedly more hi-tech. Whereas Hogwarts was not wired for any form of electricity, thus making most Muggle technology useless, in America, many of the wizards, called "technopagans", had embraced this new form of advancement. One of the most prominent of these, a witch named Jenny Calendar, had lived in Sunnydale for the last couple of years until her suspicious, unsolved death less than six months ago. Harry wondered if that meant someone working for the Dark Lord had gotten to her.

The banking community in the states was run not by goblins but by gnomes - Hermione was pretty sure this had been the subject of some kind of war that had raged just after America had been colonized, but was foggy on the details. She did know that there was a major bank in Los Angeles, and they'd have to find it to change their money for use in America- a lot of the major wizarding families there operated strictly on Muggle coinage. She thought it unlikely that the key might open a deposit box there, but wasn't prepared to rule it out.

All of this led back to a question that none of them could answer with certainty - how safe would the three of them be in America? Everything they had gleaned from Remus and the Daily Prophet indicated that Voldemort's presence in the U.S. was scattered at best - it was too big a place, and the Dark Lord didn't have much of a base there. That didn't mean that he wasn't watching certain areas with great interest- he had to be monitoring the Hellmouths. And just because there was a wizarding community in California didn't mean that there weren't other dangers- the vampire and demon communities were especially heavy on the West Coast.

Ron had one last pertinent question: "Once we get to LA, how do we get to Sunnydale, walk or do we actually take some other mode of transportation?"

"We may need to stay in LA a bit longer," Hermione pointed out. "The portkey that we're using is probably the same one Dumbledore used, which means the key probably goes with some Muggle bank there. We probably won't even have to use magic to just get a look."

Harry didn't want to think how many banks were in a city which contained at least fifteen million people, but he was inclined to think that it was that very reasoning that had prompted Dumbledore to use the key in the first place. They'd worry about the details when they got there.

"Also, we may need to make contact to find out where Buffy Summers is in the first place." According to the last bit of research that had come from overseas, Buffy had been absent from the Hellmouth for nearly three months. They had to at least consider the possibility that she was dead, and, if necessary, find out who'd been called in her place. "Someone in the magical world will know where she is. We just have to pin it down."

"And Dumbledore indicated that there was some other kind of weapon in the states," Harry reminded her. "Whatever it is - and he wasn't the type to exaggerate- it's probably in California somewhere. "

Ron decided to put forth the question they'd been avoiding. "What if we get to Buffy Summers and she tells us to go to hell?" he asked. "You know what Lupin taught us - Slayers have never gotten along with wizards in the best of circumstances. And she's already entrenched on a Hellmouth. That's gotta be a full time job."

In all honesty, Harry was not prepared to deal with this possibility. Remus might think that Buffy was an independent person, but they had no idea what kind of training she'd received under her Watcher, a Rupert Giles. For all they knew, he had filled her head with the Council party line on the wizarding community. And she might have a very good reason to be positioned on a Hellmouth - what if while they were thwarting Voldemort, another demonic threat arose, and the Slayer wasn't there to deal with it.

It was Hermione, surprisingly, who answered the question. "She'll help us because we do have something we can offer her. Something that I'm almost certain the Watcher's Council has been making sure she can't get."

"What's that?"

"A longer life."

Ron and Harry were a little thunderstruck by this, but when they pressed her for more details, she begged off answering. "I'm not sure of anything yet. Right now, it's just theoretical. I'd rather hold off until we were there, and I can get some solid answers from her Watcher."

Hermione then got a look on her face that Harry had only associated with this and her cause for House-ElF freedom. Under other circumstances, Harry might have pushed her a little, but right now, they had a lot on their plates. Besides, it wasn't as if he weren't keeping a few secrets too.

Ron argued the point a little, then decided to let it go. Harry was actually surprised that his friend was willing to concede so easily, then saw that he was still watching the skies.

Considering what had happened just three days earlier, a little paranoia might not be out of place.

After all the maneuvering that they had done to get there, their arrival at the Portkey was almost anti-climatic. The quarry looked like any of a hundred others in England. However, now they were thwarted by a factor not even Hermione had expected. Muggles were using the quarry for construction.

When Ron raised the question of whether or not the Muggles might have accidentally moved the Portkey, Harry had told them that there was a pretty strong Imperious charm around it, which would cause Muggles to think twice before they attempted to move it. Ron, who had gotten more pessimistic since the Death Eater attack, asked how they would be able to find it. Hermione had said that, according to the Directory, it would look like a rock that had no business being there.

"Well, let's just hope we can find it before Murray's Law goes into effect," Ron replied.

"Murphy's Law," Harry corrected, but didn't say anything to persuade Ron otherwise- he was waiting for the other shoe to drop as well.

They had to wait until the workers all piled out of the place. Night was just beginning to fall when the three of them entered the quarry proper.

Ron's fear were not entirely unwarranted - the quarry was a sprawling place nearly half a mile in diameter, and every foot of the place was filled with rocks of every shape, size and color. What was more, they had to do their search by the light of their wands.

Not for the first time, Harry wondered why every magical resource he read was so vague when it came to specifics- which brought his mind back to the prophecy again- something he could do nothing about, but that he couldn't get his mind away from.

They had been searching for two hours before Hermione hesitantly raised her voice. "I think I've found it."

They had gotten so spread out that it took Ron and Harry another five minutes to walk their way to the sound of Hermione's voice. Neither of them had any doubt that Hermione was correct, and when they got there, they all breathed sighs of relief.

She was standing among a pile of large black rocks. To one side of them was a flatter rock almost green in color. "Looks like this is it," Ron agreed.

The three of them gathered around the stone. "All right" Harry told them. "Anybody who wants to get off, this is the last chance."

Hermione and Ron both looked at Harry as though he gone daft. "We've gone through too much crap just to get here," Ron reminded him. "It may be scary to be heading towards a Hellmouth, but it can't be that much worse than-"

"That's not what I meant," Harry countered, picking up the ragged copy. "None of us have ever had to travel this long a distance by Portkey, and we don't even have a specific drop off point for this one. For all we know, we could teleport out a thousand feet above the ground- or, for that matter, right into the ocean. Just getting there could be -"

"Stop trying to talk us out of it," Hermione reminded them. "There's no safe place for us here. At least in Los Angeles, we might have a chance."

Harry paused. "Get everything into the bag," he said. "And then get ready to hold on."

Making sure that everything they had was in place, especially the locket and the Invisibility Cloak, they finally linked hands. Harry began to chant the incantation, and the portkey began to glow.

"Here. Goes. Nothing," Harry said, and grabbed the rock.

A silent white flash filled the night.

Harry and his friends had extinguished their wands. They had checked for passer-bys every five minutes. They had watched the skies, and made sure that when they reached the portkey, they had buffeted the surrounding area with Silence charms.

Nevertheless, they were still spotted. By someone who wasn't quite their enemy, but who viewed wizards in a very poor light.

"Quentin, we may have a problem," Roger Wyndham-Price said into the phone.


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Harry had spent the last seven years traveling through Floo systems, via Portkeys and by flying on brooms. He had thought that he could handle any mode of magical transportation.

None of that prepared him for what happened when he touched the rock.

It wasn't as if he were flying through the air; he'd been on his Firebolt far too often to know that it always contained an element of control. This felt like he was being hurtled across a giant expanse of some kind. Furthermore, it seemed to be taking forever - every other transport of this kind was over and done in an instant. He wanted to scream but couldn't; all sound and light seemed to be enveloped in a vacuum. He couldn't see Hermione and Ron; couldn't feel their presence; for all he knew, they had been scattered across the universe. He felt like he was being torn apart and squeezed back into himself simultaneously.

At the moment the pressure and the pain felt like they could increase no more, he blacked out.

When he finally came back to himself, Harry realized he was lying on a hardwood floor. Furthermore, even though they'd left England in the middle of the night, he could see daylight blinking through the window. He realized instantly there was at least an eight hour time difference between California and England, and he had no idea how long he'd been unconscious.

"Hermione?" he said slowly. No answer. "Ron?" he managed in a slightly louder voice.

He had just enough time to fear that his friends might not have made the journey when he heard the familiar groaning of Ron waking up. He looked around, and saw his friend's bright red hair. Very slowly, Harry got to his feet. It was a good minute before he felt that he could walk without fear of immediately collapsing. Slowly, he walked over to his friend. "Ron, you all right?" he asked. He knew how immensely stupid that question was considering that he felt like a billiard ball that had caromed off a cushion.

" 'm not sure," Ron managed slowly, "but I think the appropriate Muggle phrase would be, anybody get the number of that bus?"

Harry actually managed a smile at this - if the Weasley wit had not abandoned him, Ron must be feeling all right. "You seen Hermione?" he asked.

Ron blinked several times. "Hell, I'm not sure what I'm seeing now," he finally replied. "Looks like I'm seeing four or five of you."

His own vision finally starting to clear up, Harry was getting an idea of where they were. Given the furnishing and the artwork, the Portkey had let them out of in some kind of hotel, and from the looks of things, no one had been inside the room they were in for a very long time. He looked around the bed that was nearby. "Hermione?" he cried out in a louder voice.

_She didn't make it._

Harry squinted around. That was a strange voice. "Someone there?" he demanded.

"'Hey, you all right, Harry? " When Ron touched his shoulder, he all but leaped onto a nearby chest of drawers. "Hey, what the hell?"

"D-did you hear someone?" he asked in a voice that was far more trembling than he would have liked it to be.

Ron didn't answer right away, then looked around. "Where the hell is Hermione?" he demanded.

Silence was all that answered them. It did not, however, feel either unoccupied or comfortable.

Harry reached into his robe for his wand, silently relieved that it had survived this journey intact. He looked for other place then Hermione could be, then noticed that the door was ajar.

_Wasn't like that half a minute ago._

There was that whisper again, a voice that sounded simultaneously foreign and chillingly familiar. Had they somehow taken a portkey right into some magical hideout?

"Hermione!"

Again, Harry nearly leapt into the air. Christ, he'd faced the Dark Lord himself with fewer nerves. What was it about this place that was making him so jumpy?

Frantically motioning for his friend to shut the hell up, Harry walked over to the door and yanked it open to find -

- a deserted hallway.

"I don't like this, " Ron whispered. "Even if this portkey was vastly different then every other one, we should have all woken up in the same place."

_Just like her to leave you high and dry when you need her most._

"Ron?" Harry said, in an even lower tone of voice, as they made their way down the hall._ "_Do you hear someone else speaking besides me?"

Ron took a long time to answer- long enough for that unknown whisperer to start berating _his _courage. "Right now, I'm hoping that Nearly Headless Nick has some relatives in the states, and that they've got a particularly mean streak," he finally said.

Harry doubted that- ghosts were rarely this sadistic or subtle. Something else was in this place, and he didn't want to stay in this hotel any longer than he had to. However, that meant finding Hermione, and hoping like hell their bags had managed to make this journey as well.

_That's not the only thing that made this trip. Did you really think that you could get away from him even on the other side of the globe?_

No, Harry refused to think that.

_Why not?_ _They don't call him the Dark Lord because he tans well. You really think that you were so clever?_

"Shut up," Harry whispered under his breath. But a sickening feeling filled him all the same.

_They knew before you left the Ministry that it was you. They tracked you all the way across the planet. Because there's nowhere that you can run from him. Now's he coming and there is nothing that you can do to stop it._

"Shut up," Harry had his face clenched so badly, he didn't notice that Ron was squeezing his shoulder frantically.

_He's right here! About to walk behind you and-"_

_"SHUT UP!" _Harry whirled around, prepared to cast any dark spell he could-

- and came face to face with a terrified Hermione.

Harry had no idea how close he had come to shouting the Crucio spell, and didn't particularly want to dwell on it. "Where the hell were you?" he all but shouted.

"That portkey wasn't like any we've never used," Hermione replied. "I ended up on the other side of the building. Spent most of the time trying to find this." She picked up the bag that contained their supplies.

"What the hell kind of place is this?" Ron finally asked the question that had been concerning them.

" A source of extremely dark magic," Hermione replied. "I don't know what kind, but it's very powerful. I think that's why the journey over was so terrifying."

"Why the hell would anybody set up a portkey here?" Harry demanded.

"I don't know," Hermione told them, "but I don't think we should stay here any longer. This place may have been abandoned by Muggles and wizards, but it's definitely not safe."

Harry and Ron couldn't have agreed more.

They hastened their way down three flights of stairs, hearing whispers all the way down. "Are you sure we're even in Los Angeles?" Harry asked as they went.

Hermione nodded. "While I was looking for the bag, I found this tucked under one of the doormats."

She held out what appeared to be a ragged Muggle newspaper- the _Los Angeles Tribune._ The day on the masthead read December 29, 1985. It was slightly obscured by a solid brown stain. Harry didn't want to think what that substance was.

"Once we get out of here, where do we go?" Ron asked.

"Our best bet may be some kind of wizarding hostel," Hermione replied. "From what I remember from the literature, the nearest one is in a neighborhood known as Inglewood."

"But Los Angeles is a big place," Ron reminded her "and we have no idea where we are right now. How do we even begin to start looking?"

"One of the American transfers from Hogwarts once told me that the entire magical community was right under your nose, particularly in places like here," Hermione replied. "We've been in the wizarding community for more than seven years. Even to us, it should be obvious."

Harry wanted to argue this point a little, but was afraid that anything that came out of his mouth might be under the influence of whatever dark forces were surrounding this hotel. He didn't want to sound any notes of panic, particularly when he had no foreknowledge otherwise.

They made it to the lobby, and exited out of the giant doors. Harry looked around trying to find an idea of their location, and saw the name of the hotel on a tarnished but still legible sign.

"Goodbye, Hyperion Hotel," he muttered under his breath. "I only wish that we had the time to make sure nobody ever stays in one of your rooms again."

'The place has clearly been deserted for years," Hermione assured them. "Even the most ordinary Muggle would know better than to ever live here again."

There were several surprises for them as the three of them walked the streets of Los Angeles, some unpleasant, some decidedly less so.

For starters, Harry had been right about the time discrepancy, but not even he was prepared for what time it was. It was nine in the morning- on November 3, nearly a full month AFTER they had teleported from the quarry. Hermione's best explanation was that the magic of the portkey combined with whatever dark forces were commandeering the hotel had created some kind of temporal magic vortex. Though she tried to calm everybody down by saying that they were fortunate not to have been propelled years into the future, it was clear she was unsettled by this part of their journey.

Once they got over that, it quickly became clear that there were some advantages. The weather was far more temperate than it had been England, even though autumn was nearly over. There was no presence of any dark magic, and the residents of the city seemed unconcerned to see three teenagers in magical regalia walking down the avenue in broad daylight.

They spotted their first magical shop open in plain sight on a street with the foreign sounding name of Sepulveda Boulevard. The wizard inside was more than happy to give them instruction on how to locate the nearest magical inn. Clearly American, he asked almost casually how the situation in Europe was.

"Been getting a fair amount of new customers the last year or so," the proprietor had told them. 'Getting the feeling the war must be getting pretty grim."

Whenever someone in England mentioned the war, there was a tone in their voice that measured between concern and genuine fear. This wizard talked as though he was discussing the weather- in Spain. This was a pattern that the three of them were find throughout the magical community, and all of them- especially Harry- were quietly angry at them.

Things were somewhat different when they reached the magical corner of town. The proprietor of the inn was an expatriate from England named Hutchinson who asked if they had received any word of a wizarding cousin of his. He didn't seem surprised that the answer was no, but they could also see the death of hope in his eyes.

What both groups agreed on was that there was next to no Death Eater involvement in America at all, particularly within Los Angeles itself. The American Ministry had declared a policy of neutrality, and no one on the continent had seemed inclined to violate this truce, in either word or deed. Given how calm the streets were everywhere, you could almost forget that there was a war going on at all. Almost.

After arranging lodgings, they took a map of the city, and decided that they would try a practical approach. They would divide the city into quadrants, and search every bank until they found the one that had the box which the key fit. While they were doing so, they would try separate searches to glean information about Buffy Summers.

Hermione was to check the LA branch of the Daily Prophet, and check its back issues for information they could find about the Slayer- the paper had regular columns about what was going on at the Hellmouth. Ron was to look for her father - her parents were divorced, and Mr. Summers apparently worked in LA; people had seen her spend time with him the previous summer.

Harry was to check out a different tangent. The last recorded mention of anything relating to Buffy Summers had been from a piece in the Quibbler three months earlier - it had been a trunk piece saying she had given up slaying for a job as a waitress in some cheap restaurant. There was probably no truth to it, and they had no idea which restaurant it was, only that she'd been using the name 'Anne'.

Harry thought that this would be even harder than finding the bank, but after getting a photo of Buffy (being extra careful to make sure that this was taken with a Muggle camera), he decided to try and run it down. It might be an explanation as to the last place Buffy had been.

By the end of the first day, it was obvious that they had taken on a task that wasn't going to be over with quickly.

For starters, getting into a Muggle bank proved especially tricky for people who had never been in one. Without a social security number or any kind of ID that would work in the Muggle world, they had a lot of trouble just getting in the front door. The fact that computers could find out they weren't in America's system ruled out getting false ones.. The approach was so complicated all three of them wondered if Dumbledore had even tried this at all.

After two days, Hermione reminded them of the Imperium spell, but none of them thought Dumbledore would ever use it, and even if he had, they still weren't at the level where they could cast it with certainty. Harry pointed out something that he vaguely remembered from some of the crime dramas the Dursleys watched - there were lower grade banks that would be willing to take things from people without the proper identification. When they pointed out that there were over a hundred and fifty banks in Los Angeles alone, he argued that they would get a lot of practice at being underhanded- a skill that could only help against Voldemort.

Things didn't go much better at the Daily Prophet. They had been following events in Sunnydale for the past century, and it had become a regular feature in the last decade. But getting past the Sunnydale border had gotten difficult even for the best wizarding mind the past few months. No one was sure why, and Hermione was afraid to ask too many questions without raising suspicions.

More difficult was getting data out of the paper. Once again, the lack of Muggle technology was proving to be their enemy. In a Muggle world, they would have been able to utilize computers or even microfilm to trace back issues. No such animal existed for the Los Angeles branch of the Prophet. Hermione was going to be spending the next couple of weeks going through the paper issue by issue to get the data. Ron had told her that she could beg off if she thought that this was going to lead them nowhere, but she'd very pointedly declined. "Buffy Summers' life is in Sunnydale," she replied. "If we don't have an understanding of her world before we talk to her, we won't have a chance of convincing her to join our side."

Ron thought that Hermione couldn't resist the urge to turn this job into another Hogwarts project, a sentiment Harry partially shared. But he thought that going into the Slayer's world absolutely cold could be dangerous. Besides, they both needed some extra time to figure out what weapon Dumbledore had been searching for. Giving her some latitude was safer than admitting that they were flying mostly blind.

Ron's task was wrapped up the quickest- but it was just as unsatisfactory. It wasn't that hard to track down where Hank Summers lived- the phone's books were a godsend. But when he got to his house, he learned that Buffy's father wasn't living there. Further investigation with the neighbors indicated that he was currently working out of the country- Spain, they thought. Ron didn't think it was a good idea for any Muggle to be in Europe about now, but didn't let that particular secret slip.

The next two weeks were extremely frustrating for everybody. They were having no luck with any of the banks they'd found; Hermione was having trouble going through the Prophet's back issues (the American version of the paper was three times the size of London's) and what little she was hearing of what was going on in England made all of them concerned for what was happening to their friends. They were also having zero luck in figuring out how to destroy the Horcrux, or what any of the others might be.

And even though they were across the ocean from Voldemort and not a single dark wizard had come looking for them, they didn't feel safe. The creature comforts- board, bed and three meals a day- didn't make up for the fact that they were essentially separated from the battle that other people were fighting. Harry in particular was feeling this. His scar had not tingled, and he hadn't seen a thing from Voldemort's perspective, and while this should have been a relief, it wasn't. It just seemed to emphasize their physical distance from the rest of the world. They weren't here on holiday. They had a job to do, and they were getting nowhere.

Their luck changed just as November was nearing its end - something they wouldn't have noticed if not for the calendar. While initially they were delighted by the temperance of the weather, Harry had begun to find it yet another reason to be irritated by California. They seemed to be frozen in time, another indication that they were going nowhere.

Harry had stopped in yet another cheap diner in the middle of LA, and had begun the ritual of asking whether a woman named Anne had worked there recently. It therefore came as something of a shock when the answer was yes. Even though he was now certain this was just another piece of claptrap the Quibbler had published, for a moment he dared to hope that he might finally be face to face...

... with a complete stranger. This woman was the same age as Buffy, and had the same color hair, but in height and build she was completely different from the woman in the photograph. "I'm sorry," he muttered as politely as he could manage, "you're not who I was looking for."

"Of course not," the woman replied. "Buffy hasn't worked here for nearly three months."

Harry was good at remaining stoic under shock, but he could've been knocked over with a feather at this. "You knew her?"

"She saved my life twice. Damn straight I'd remember her,." The woman was really not much older than Harry. "I go on break in thirty minutes. Wait at the table near the back."

Hardly daring to believe his luck, Harry did exactly that. It wasn't as though he had a lot more on his plate - the last three banks that he had gone to had been a complete bust.

Twenty-five minutes later, the woman walked over to his table. "I know you're not a vampire because it's the middle of the afternoon," she replied. "And you don't look like any of the demons I've seen. But anyone who asks after Buffy is either going to be in a lot of trouble or already is. So I need to know just how serious whatever problem you've got is."

Considering everything he'd been through over the past six years, to be questioned so frankly by a muggle somehow seemed more dangerous than being given a dose of Vitaserum. "You sure you want to tell me here?"

The woman looked at him. "You could tell these people the world was about to end, and half of them would just order another cup of coffee," she replied. "I thought that there was a fair amount of darkness in Sunnydale. It's nothing compared to the batshit craziness I've seen here. And the fact that you're not running in terror at the very mention of this means something just as bad as coming. So, once again I ask, why do you need to know about Buffy?"

"You're from Sunnydale?"

The woman gave a sickly grin. "If I was a native of Sunnydale, and I'd wanted to get away from the insanity, I'd moved to the dark side of the moon. But given the way the world works, there's probably a couple of super-vampires who went up there on the Apollo Missions." She looked at him. "And judging from your accent, you're not a Sunnydale native either."

Harry was beginning to feel he was losing the thread. 'What's your name? Before I get any further in this, I'd like to know who I'm talking to."

The woman gave a small smile. "I'd like to know the same"

"Harold Dursley," he lied in an instant.

"Anne Steele," she replied. "It's not the name I was born with, but it's the one I'm most comfortable with."

She seemed to know that Harry was lying, but she also seemed to be saying that it wasn't bothering her. Harry was still getting used to walking the streets in total anonymity, even among the muggle world.

"It's hard to believe, but I once thought that vampires were wholesome, misunderstood creatures, who would lead us to immortality. I was convinced that they just wanted to be loved. "

Harry was a little amazed that even a Muggle could be that naive. "What changed your mind?" he asked, though he thought he could guess the answer.

"I met one," she replied. "And he tried to eat me and about a dozen other people. She warned me, she saved our lives, and she didn't even stay around for me to thank her. I did what any intelligent person would do. I got the hell out of Dodge."

"When did this happen?" Harry asked.

"About this time last year," she told him. "Back then, I was calling myself Chantarelle. Thought it sounded ominous but intriguing." She shook her head. "Man, I was naive."

"And you moved here?" she asked.

"Moved would imply I lived in Sunnydale. I was," she looked at Harry strangely, "just passing through. I traveled here a couple of months later. Called myself Lily for awhile. I became friends with a nice guy- I made sure to see him in the daytime first, though. And I settled in. Thought I was done with the weirdness. "

"And the next time you saw her was here?" Harry asked.

She nodded. "She was calling herself Anne then." She gave a small smile. "Pretended she didn't know who I was when I recognized her."

This was a wrinkle Harry hadn't been expecting. "Why was she here?"

"I never got a clear answer. The most that I could learn was that she was running away too." Anne held up a hand. "Don't ask me why. She wanted nothing to do with me."

"Until you got into trouble again," Harry guessed.

Anne nodded again. "My boyfriend disappeared. It looked like he vanished off the face of the earth. I didn't know that's exactly what had happened. So, I fell under the influence of Ken. Another nice guy. Only I didn't realize what he was until it was almost too late. It would've been."

Harry thought he knew what was coming. "She saved you again."

"Despite the fact that she wanted nothing to do with me, she found out that I was in a demon dimension. She found out where it was, and she went in after me." Anne shook her head. "I was scared shitless; prepared to spend the rest of my life as a slave; I was broken. She still killed the bad guy and rescued everybody. And when I tried to thank her, she basically shrugged it off. Said it was what she did, and there wasn't any point in trying to run from it."

Harry was starting to get a picture of what Buffy might be like, and was beginning to think that Hermione might be right about her idea of the Slayer. "Where did she go?"

"Can't say for sure. But my guess is back to Sunnydale." Anne looked at Harry. "I've answered your questions. Now you answer one of mine. Why are you looking for Buffy?"

Even though Harry had seen this question coming, he was a little shocked when he couldn't come up with an immediate answer. "What if I told you I needed saving?" he asked.

"You're holding out for a hero at the end of the night?" Anne smiled as she said this. There was a joke here but Harry didn't get it.

She turned serious. "There's a police department in this city. Couple of army barracks. And I'm pretty sure the FBI has an office here. What is so big that it requires Buffy's help?"

How exactly do you explain to even someone who knows about the world of the supernatural that forces beyond their control might be coming to destroy her world? It hit Harry for the first time that he was probably going to be telling Buffy Summers just that, and he still didn't have the first idea of what to say to her.

"I guess what I'm asking is that should I be afraid?"

This woman had clearly unburdened her soul when she didn't have to. Harry thought he owed her something, even if it wasn't the whole truth. "A war is coming to this country, Anne. And if Buffy doesn't help, the wrong side will probably win."

"Is there anything I can do?"

"Just keep your eyes open."

Anne gave a smile that was far older than someone her age could have given. "They always are. Especially at night."

Harry didn't have the heart to tell her that these monsters came out in broad daylight.

As little information as that was, it managed to spark a little hope in the hearts of the three of them- at least they knew that Buffy was still alive. This managed to sustain them for another week of dead ends.

Something strange happened in December- something none of them could explain. For the better part of a day and a night, everything seemed- wrong. It was hard to explain exactly what, but everyone in the wizarding community of LA felt it, even if they couldn't explain it exactly.

For a while, they all wondered if Voldemort was responsible - that he'd finished his climb to power. However, the wizard who kept their place that this particular brand of magic felt more demonic then anything else.

This was another area that Harry and friends felt out of their depths in. Everything they'd been taught since the day they'd entered Hogwarts was that wizards were the only beings who could use magic. It had been a shock to Harry when he'd learned that Dobby and Kreacher could, but the idea that there were creatures out there who knew magic far darker then theirs was a concept that all wizards in London considered mythical. Here in America, it was practically considered a given. A couple of wizards had even gone so far as to wonder about their curriculum if they didn't know what one referred to as "Non-Wizard Magic 101'.

Whatever it was, it didn't last long. Less than a day after everybody thought the world had been darker, everyone seemed to believe that it was back to normal. The three from Hogwarts were beginning to wonder what people in this country considered normal, but that was a battle for another day. One, that they had to admit, was coming very soon.

Two days later, Hermione said that she'd gathered enough intelligence from the Daily Prophet's back issues that she was able to finally draw a coherent map of what had been going on in Sunnydale ever since Buffy had arrived there. Harry and Ron were a little dubious, but admitted that they needed to know whether this Slayer really might be able to help in the battle against Voldemort.

The first headline was probably enough to resolve their doubts. Dated June 2, 1997- it read: _'THE MASTER DEFEATED, APOCALYPSE AVERTED, SLAYER STILL ALIVE' _Apparently the Master, one of the founding members of the Order of Aurelius, presumed dead since 1937 had emerged from the Hellmouth prepared to bring about the end times. What made this event ever more remarkable was that there had been several clear prophecies indicating that the only way the Master could be defeated was if the Slayer was killed. Somehow, Buffy Summers had faced these odds and beaten them.

"How the hell did we miss all that?" Ron demanded. "I mean, even if we ignore what was happening overseas, this should have been a banner headline everywhere."

"Check the date," Hermione replied. "Two days after this, Voldemort invaded the Ministry. The entire wizarding world never got over the uproar."

"That seems like a pretty big coincidence," Ron argued.

Harry would've argued the point, but for two things. First, he was still processing the grief that had come when Sirius had died that same day at Bellatrix's hands. More prominently, he was wondering how the hell Buffy could have managed to get around something that had been carved in stone for decades. It made him wonder if maybe, just maybe, the prophecy he'd read in the Department might be wrong.

"The summer was unusually quiet. She does nothing big until October 1st,."

Hermione took out another clipping. The Slayer wasn't mentioned in the headline, but it still made their heads reel anyway: "_WILLIAM THE BLOODY LEADS MASSACRE IN SUNNYDALE HIGH."_

The body of the story was even more disturbing. Not only was 'Spike' around on the Hellmouth, there were reports that Angelus had been seen on the school grounds as well. Considering how very brutal both were (Spike's execution of two other slayers in the past century was referenced), they both wondered how Buffy could have survived that year.

Neither was sure about why the next story was there. "_STREETS FILLED WITH DEMON__S__ ON HALLOWEEN; MUGGLE FRIEND OF SLAYER HELPS SAVE THE DAY"_

Hermione explained her reasoning. "First of all, for demons Halloween is traditionally considered a night the undead take off. Yet there are reports of children turning into demons all night long. The paper doesn't say it directly, but it sounds to me like someone cast a very dark magic over the city."

"And the second thing?"

"The muggle who is given most of the credit for calming the chaos is a muggle named Alexander Harris. He was dressed as a soldier that night, and ended up beating back numerous demonic assaults." Hermione told them. "His name comes up a bit in the stories of Sunnydale - either as a romantic interest or just a friend."

"How is that relevant?" Ron asked.

"Slayers don't have friends," Hermione replied bluntly. "One thing all the guides make very clear is that Slayers are raised to be soldiers, often raised in seclusion by their Watchers. Buffy, apparently, not only has a public face, but her identity is known to Muggles her own age, people who could be at best considered a liability if they got in her way."

"And somehow this Harris kid has apparently learned enough to be a help in a fight,." Harry had to admit this was a new wrinkle. "Any other people mentioned?"

"Two women, Willow Rosenberg and Cordelia Chase, have been mentioned a lot in these articles," Hermione told her. "These people have to be brave. Just walking home from school in Sunnydale is often enough to get a person killed."

"Sounds like she's raising an army, if this Harris is any indication," Ron replied.

"And it looks like she needs all the help she can get." Hermione hesitated, then moved through the next few articles. "There were a couple of stories that are relevant- including the one that basically backs up Anne Steele's story, but the next one that comes up- it indicates that there might be a far bigger problem in Sunnydale then even Dumbledore might have been willing to admit."

Hermione wasn't kidding. "_DRUSILLA SPOTTED IN SUNNYDALE GATHERING PACKAGES; RUMORS INDICATE JUDGE MIGHT BE REASSEMBLED" _Harry and Ron looked a little blank at this, until Hermione explained. "The Judge was one of the most fearsome demons in recorded history. It's said that he had the power to burn the humanity out of anyone who walked the earth, magical, demonic or otherwise."

"Maybe we should've pointed him towards Moldywart," Ron tried to joke, but Hermione expression sobered him up.

"It took an army to stop him the first time. Even then, the best they could do was hack him to pieces and scatter them all over the world so that he would be neutralized," Hermione replied. "Even the Death Eaters wouldn't have stood for this."

"But Drusilla did," Harry gathered. "She'd must be even crazier than we thought."

Ron looked around. "World's still here? I'm guessing Buffy defeated him."

"Yes, but it was a real "good news, bad news" situation."

The next story dated just two days later was even worse. The Judge was defeated at a Muggle shopping center in Sunnydale. Showing remarkable insight (Hermione thought this had to be Harris' and Rosenberg's idea; not even a Slayer would've come up with it on her own) she had blown it apart with a rocket launcher. But any joy from this was quickly dissipated by the clear fact that the Judge had been commanded by Angelus, Drusilla and Spike.

"_War has come to Sunnydale,"_ the writer implied. _"And if this maneuver was just the opening gambit, carnage on a scale that we may not have seen since the first war against Voldemort may be coming. The fact that it is happening on top of an active Hellmouth means that the conclusion might be apocalyptic. Buffy Summers was able to defeat the Master. But can even she stand against a trio of vampires who __have__ commanded terror for centuries?" _

For the briefest of moments, Harry felt afraid. He remembered who truly worried Remus when he had discussed these vampires in class four years previous. Even in the abstract, they were terrifying. Could they have been worse than that?

"How bad did it get?" he asked.

Hermione blinked. "Worse then you'd imagine. Sunnydale's death rate got even higher for the next couple of months. And then this:

_DOUBLE MAGICAL MURDERS: BLOODY DEATHS APPEAR TO BE HANDIWORK OF ANGELUS. _It was the listing of the murder of one of the few American wizards who had opened a magic shop on the Hellmouth. More shocking was the death of Jenny Calendar who had her body placed in a ritualistic fashion in the bedroom of Rupert Giles. "The two had been romantically linked from what I understand," Hermione replied. "An act of this kind of sadism is Angelus' stock in trade."

Harry was a bit unnerved to read this. "Why didn't Buffy just take him out then?" he demanded

"Because Giles reacted first," Hermione replied. "He led an assault on one of his hideouts, and tried to take him out single-handed. Buffy apparently had the choice of killing Angelus or saving him. She chose the latter."

"Why didn't she kill him before that?" Ron argued. "She has to have known what a threat he was from his actions with the Judge alone. There's got to be more to this story."

"I don't have an answer to that," Hermione admitted. "But we know how dangerous these vampires are. Hell, we did reports on them. Even a Slayer would have to approach one with extreme caution, let alone three."

"Please tell me that this war ended with one of these creatures dead," Harry replied.

"It got bad," Hermione replied. "Worse then we could've imagined."

She held up another article, this one dated May 20. _BODY OF ACATHLA EXCAVATED. _"I'll save you the trouble. Acathla was a huge demon who was imprisoned in a body of stone. Supposedly when he opened his mouth, he had the capability to swallow the world whole."

"This must be the other apocalypse that Buffy prevented," Harry replied.

"Wasn't that simple," Hermione held up the next days headline. CARNAGE AT SUNNYDALE HIGH, STUDENT MURDERED, WATCHER MISSING. "The headline underplays it. Buffy was originally charged with the murder, and even though the evidence was circumstantial, the principal expelled her from school."

Ron was trying to figure this out. "How was this her fault?"

"From what I can gather from these stories, the police department at Sunnydale was _less _competent than the people working for the Ministry," Hermione replied. "They've been keeping the town sealed up for decades - any incident related to the supernatural is blamed on student gangs. This isn't sloppiness; it's far too organized."

"Cut to the chase," Harry asked. "How did this play out?"

Hermione shook her head. "Even the Prophet's not sure. The next day, Acathla has been rendered dormant, and all of the principals- Angel, Spike, Drusilla- they're all gone. The charges against Buffy were dropped, but every indication is she disappeared from Sunnydale that same day."

"Until she shows up in LA four months ago," Harry argued. "We're missing a really big piece of the puzzle."

"And we may never get a clear idea what that piece is, at least from the Prophet," Hermione replied. "The last story they have on her has her resurfacing in Sunnydale three months ago. After that, intelligence from the Hellmouth has gotten a lot harder to obtain. I got friendly with one of their student interns; apparently for the last two months the Sunnydale PD has been responsible for looking out for certain suspicious characters. "

"They're throwing out vampires?" Ron asked doubtfully.

"They're throwing out journalists," Hermione corrected. "or at least anyone who isn't part of the Sunnydale media outlets. " She looked at them. "This is organized, and well thought out. If I had to guess, someone in authority is planning a coup of their own."

"So you think there's going to be trouble getting in?" Harry asked.

"I'm saying that we're going to have another obstacle," Hermione told them. "This could be a bigger headache than getting into the Ministry."

"Can't be that difficult." They looked at Ron. "Vampires keep getting in, and according what we've been taught, they need to be invited."

"We'll worry about that when we've figured out what the hell this key opens," Harry replied.

"And how much longer do we have to give this?" Ron replied, with a hint of irritation. "We've gone through half the banks in LA. What happens when we run out of those? What's if it's not in a bank at all?"

"We'll cross that bridge when we get there," Hermione and Ron were sending him the same look, so Harry went on. "We'll give it another week. Maybe we'll get another sign."

As it turned out, that's exactly what they got - literally.


	6. Chapter 5

They didn't find the bank they were looking for, but as they would soon realize, there was a very good reason they couldn't.

Once again, it was Hermione who led the way. While exploring the area of the dingier section of downtown, she had come across a place that looked like a club of some kind. What had drawn her attention to it was a creature that resembled a Cyclops walking in broad daylight. (After more than a month in this city, she was beginning to think she could walk around in dress robes, wand held in front of her, and wouldn't even merit a second glance from the natives.) It wasn't so much the one eye, as the fact that he was wearing blue jeans and a tank top.

He opened the door, and was embraced by a woman who didn't seem put off by either his dress or appearance. It would have taken a less curious person than Hermione to just walk away from this, and when she got to the window, she saw something even stranger. There appeared to be a group of bizarre creatures of which the Cyclops seemed the most normal of the bunch. They sat down around a giant table and, after a bit of discussion, began to play cards. What's more, they didn't seem to be playing for money or chips, but rather for kittens.

When she'd related this part of the story, Ron had begun to wonder if Hermione had finally lost her mind after all the effort they had been expending for this trip.

"I won't deny that this is bizarre," Harry remarked tactfully, "but what does any of this have to do with us?"

"The name of the establishment," Hermione replied. "'Caritas'. That's the Latin word for 'mercy'.

Suddenly, the clue from Dumbledore - that they had all but forgotten in the cycle of events of the last four months- returned to Harry's mind. "Did you see a man with horns?" he demanded.

Hermione nodded. "Green, scaly skin, crimson red eyes. He just stood there, and kept passing out drinks."

This was too big a coincidence. "Can you find this place again?" Harry asked.

"Wouldn't have to try that hard," Hermione replied. "I did some checking. It's in the bloody phone book. It's a nightclub."

Ron looked like he was about to explode. "Why couldn't Dumbledore just have left a better hint?" He shook his head. "How quickly can we get there?"

"You really want to go there in the middle of the night?" Hermione replied. "He had monsters there in broad daylight. I'm not sure I want to see what comes out after sunset."

"We'll go at dawn," Harry replied. "Hopefully, we can get some answers at last."

The sun was just starting to rise over the horizon when the three of them approached Caritas.

Hermione hadn't been kidding about the menagerie that was there. Magical creatures, demons that they had only read about at Hogwarts, and - for some reason Harry found this the queerest of all- a fair amount of average men and women began to emerge from the front of the building. Neither man nor beast seem alarmed at what they were seeing; Harry could've sworn that he saw a creature with three eyes and two noses being propped up by a couple of unsteady women who weren't much older than he was.

"What the hell kind of nightclub is this?" Ron whispered, as the masses began to thin out a bit.

"We're about to find out," Harry replied. "Let's try and get inside while there's still a bit of chaos."

Very slowly, the three of them made their way to the entrance. No one, man or demon, seem to pay them any mind; Harry found himself wondering what it took to get a demon drunk.

"Hey watch out, I'm walking here, I'm walking here," a skinny creature with yellow, slimy skin mumbled. The demon was twice the size of Harry; nevertheless, apart from mumbling he made no effort to halt any of their progress.

"Calm down, Ratso," a much larger demon wearing- Harry had to blink a couple of times- a ten-gallon hat and a pair of cowboy boots. "We're still going to make it to Malibu."

It took a considerable amount of effort for them not to stare at every creature that went by them. Somehow, they managed to make it to the door, only to find a much smaller man.

"Sorry, kids. We're putting up the closed sign for a reason," he told them gently.

This was a problem they honestly hadn't foreseen, and Harry wasn't sure how to proceed. "We need a moment with the man in charge," he began awkwardly.

The man laughed. "If you think he's a man, you definitely don't have any business here," he replied. "Now I realize you may think it's cool to drink at your age, but I gotta tell you there are easier places to try, and frankly-"

"Albus Dumbledore sent us," Harry found himself saying before he could stop himself.

At first it seemed like he'd wasted his breath. The man just chuckled and began to push the door closed again. Then a strange voice, which sounded like nothing Harry could remember hearing, responded.

"Raoul, it's either a little too early or a little too late for me to be sure of these things, so rewind a bit. Did someone mention the name Dumbledore?"

"Yeah," Raoul replied. "Who the hell is he?"

There was a pause. "Let them come in. Quietly."

For a moment, it seemed that Raoul was just going to ignore his boss. Finally, he shrugged, and held the door open.

Harry got to the front first, and therefore got the first glance at the- whatever- who had invited them in. Admittedly, he hadn't seen a huge number of demons in his life, so he wasn't sure whether this one was particularly unusual. Still, he wasn't sure what was more astonishing - the creature's scaly skin, crimson eyes, and horns- or the fact that he was dressed in one of the most ostentatious jacket and ties combination he'd ever seen.

The demon refrained from commenting until the three of them were inside. He then looked at Raoul. "Why don't you leave me the keys and I'll finish locking up?" he said.

Considering the array of fabulous creatures that had just left the place, Harry thought this guy was unusually concerned about the safety of his boss, if he considered _them _a threat. But Raoul looked at them for a few moments before he finally did what he was told.

"Now that he's gone, you can stop staring at me like I'm about to disappear," the demon replied.

"I'm sorry," Harry replied. "It's just that I've- I've-"

Suddenly, the three of them didn't know what to say. They were all wishing that there had been some course at Hogwarts involving the proper demon etiquette.

"Never seen anybody pull off green with black?" the demon jested. Then he got a look at the worn out faces of the three youths, and sobered up a bit. "I'm sorry, kids, I should know better. It's obvious you traveled a long way to find me, and here I am making myself the center of attention. So let me see if I've got my facts straight."

He looked at the three of them. "You're Harry Potter, right?"

Harry was nodding before he realized that the tone of the man's voice had indicated that he was a bit unsure. He didn't recognize him, like everyone else in the magical world seemed to.

"Where are my manners? I'm The Host," the demon replied. "Obviously, that's not the name I was spawned with, but I'm guessing that you have enough problems on your plate then having to know my story."

"But you knew we were coming," Hermione seemed to have recovered from her slight shock, and was back to business. "How? Are you a friend of Dumbledore's?"

"That would be a slight exaggeration. I mean, I'm a friendly cat and all, but we only met once six months ago, and even then it couldn't have been for more than ten minutes," The Host hesitated. "I'll tell you something though; he certainly knew who I was, and he shook me up quite a bit."

"He was here," Hermione needed to get every i dotted.

"It was a busy night. Of course all nights at the club are pretty busy, but we had a pretty big crowd gathered. Then this old guy, decked out like Merlin's much better dressed twin brother, finds his way to the bar, and orders a butterbeer." The Host shook his head. "Raoul gets some pretty weird orders, but we only get call for wizarding beverages every couple of weeks. He asked me about it, so I decide to handle this particular customer myself."

"While I'm mixing him his drink, the wizard introduces himself as Albus Dumbledore. Now I haven't been in these parts as long as he has, but I know the name. So my first question is, what's a classy guy like you doing in a joint like this?"

'"' I've come for a reading.'"

"Now even though I've got a little reputation, being one of the better empath demons on the West Coast, I'm thinking this guy came a long way, and, frankly, some diviners in the wizarding community are much better at this than I am. I tell him as much, and the guy lights up.'"

"'I'm not going to get read. You are.'"

"Well, I nearly dropped his drink. Most wizards wouldn't be caught within fifty feet of my bar, much less offer me a reading.

"He tells me he's just had a long talk with one of the bigger seers in LA. The name is ultimately irrelevant. According to her, I've got a great and powerful destiny ahead of me. I'm going to be a mover and shaker in the supernatural community, especially among the undead. And in order to achieve this great destiny, I have to stay exactly where I am for the next couple of years."

"Now I like LA, it's my kind of town in my kind of dimension, so I'm beginning to wonder why this guy thinks I'm going to up and move."

"'Because you're the type who keeps his ear to the ground,' he tells me. 'And even if you didn't, you know the world's going to be a very dangerous place for the next several months, maybe even the next couple of years. Lots of magical creatures have been emigrating; you'd be a fool to not consider it.'"

"'What is it that you want me to do?'"

"'He tells me he's willing to perform a little spell on my club, and turn it into a sanctuary. A place where all magical characters can chill together, get a Seabreeze, and enjoy the house band.'"

"'And what do I have to do in return?' I ask."

"Then he gives me a real surprise and ask me if the lockers from the bus station are still around. This place was a bus depot for a line that got cancelled. Now this isn't common knowledge, but I know better than to ask him how he knows it. When I answer yes, he tells me that he needs to use one of them for a few minutes. Again, I know better than to ask why."

Harry suddenly cut the Host off. "There are lockers here." He reached for the key that had not left his side for the last four months. "Will this open one of them?"

The Host looked at him. "That's the thing about heroes," he said with a chuckle. "They always need someone to tell them a question they already have an answer to."

Harry felt a lightness in his chest that he hadn't felt in months, maybe not since he'd seen Dumbledore die at Snape's hand. "Where are they?"

"Inside the kitchen, there's a trap door," the Host told them. "You go under there, and walk about ten feet, you'll be where you need to be. I suggest you do that little sparkler action spell at the end of your wand- electricity has been spotty down there ever since I got the place."

If it had been possible to fly down to that particular area, Harry would've done it.

Ron looked at the Host. "Do you have any idea why Dumbledore chose you and Caritas out of everywhere else in this city?"

"Admittedly, I haven't had much time to dwell on it," the Host admitted. "My best guess? Caritas has always supposed to be a safe haven, free from the troubles of the outside world. And ever since Dumbledore's little visit, it's become exactly that. This may be, physically and spiritually, the safest place for demons and mystics in the city. No Death Eater could cross the threshold with the purpose of causing violence."

That was good enough for Ron. Hermione looked up. "We should probably see what's down there," she asked. "Do you mind-"

"Don't worry about it," the Host assured them. "As you say across the pond, all's safe as houses."

It had taken Harry two minutes to locate the place and another ninety seconds for him to find the locker that the key opened. By that time, Ron was already there, and Hermione was just a few steps behind them.

"There had better not be another one of those damn riddles in there," Ron said as he looked at Harry.

The thought had crossed Harry's mind. In fact, now that they'd finally found what the key opened, he realized that in all these months he hadn't given a thought as to what might be inside the box. He took a deep breath as the door opened to reveal-

- money.

Of all the things that Harry had expected to see, a large cache of what appeared to American ten and twenty dollar bills was at the very bottom of the list, if it had been there at all.

"What - ?" Hermione said. "Is this all?"

It wasn't, but it took a lot of sorting to find out what else was there – a giant envelope with _FOR HARRY _written on it. By now, the three of them could recognize Dumbledore's scrawl from nearly ten feet away. Harry had a feeling that this was what he had gone to such a great effort to keep secret for all these months.

Harry very carefully removed a giant pile of papers - it was clearly a letter. Dumbledore had found a way to reach him even from beyond the grave.

"You ready for this?" Hermione asked.

"What else have we been waiting for?" Still, Harry was a little surprised to find that one of his hands was trembling a bit as he opened the letter.

_May 23,1998_

_Harry:_

_If you are reading this, three separate things have happened: I am dead, Remus has told you about the trip I took to America earlier this year, and most importantly Voldemort has completed the first steps of his seizure of power._

_I apologize for using such Byzantine methods to make sure that you read this letter rather than simply telling you directly, or for that matter, hiding this in England. But circumstances have become so grave over the past two years that I believe that there is no truly safe place for a wizard, probably not even Hogwarts. You may even resent me for leading you away from the quest you and I began earlier this year, trying to find and destroy the remaining Horcruxes._

_Therefore, I will be honest. I believe one of those very Horcruxes is in America, perhaps even within Los Angeles itself. Yet even knowing this, I must tell you that locating it may be far less important then the real reason I came to the States, and perhaps even more important to the war._

_However, since you have no doubt been on a long search by now, I will tell you about the Horcrux in question. _

_Ever since you and I learned the truth about Slugworth__'__s lesson to young Tom Riddle decades ago, I have spent as much time as my duties would avail me trying to identify and locate the remaining Horcruxes. Needless_ to say_, the search has been very frustrating - trying to figure out what Voldemort may have cared about is extremely challenging, and survivors of that era are few and far between._

_One thing that some of the survivors agree on, and have been unable to explain, was that nineteen years ago, when the war was nearing its height, Voldemort and several Death Eaters made a sojourn to the states. The common belief was that Voldemort was trying to shore up his forces by recruiting American wizards who then, like now, were neutral. Since Voldemort never asked when he could demand, I find this unlikely. A more accurate guess is that he may have paid a visit to one of the Hellmouths on this continent in an effort to gain magical energy. _

_In either case, while retracing his itinerary, I found from a reliable source that he made a side trip to California. It is my belief that he took this opportunity to conceal one of the Horcruxes out of the reach of any British wizard. I believe Muggles would refer to this as a "fail-safe"._

_One week ago, I learned of an exhibition of antique artifacts at a gallery in Sunnydale. From what little I've been able to glean from Muggle publications, 'antique' is often a code word for 'supernatural'. However, my one source in Sunnydale with this information was found drained of his blood around that same period. I cannot state with certainty whether he fell victim to an ally of Voldemort or whether he was merely the casualty of one of the vampires that patrol the Hellmouth. His last communication with me indicated that among the archived materials were various artifacts including a set of goblets, each of which bore one of the insignias of the four founders of Hogwarts. _

_I believe one of those cups to be another Horcrux, though I cannot confirm which one it might be. When I made an attempt to retrieve them, I found that they had been put out of my reach by one of the wizards in the states. Had I more time, I would've been able to locate them, but circumstances dictated that I change my priorities and time was of the essence._

Harry frowned at this. Dumbledore had been the most powerful wizard they had ever known. He couldn't imagine anybody, even aided by the Hellmouth, who could have beat him in a fair fight. He was hinting at something, but none of them were prepared to guess at what.

_Now I realize how important it is to find and destroy this Horcrux, but the truth us, I was only alerted to its existence by pure chance. I went to California to face a far greater threat._

_Less than a week ago, I was contacted by someone within the Ministry to alert me of a situation that only the most powerful wizard could resolve. I have no doubt that you would consider this a betrayal, especially after all of the abuse they have directed at you and I. I would have you remember two things. One, not everybody in the Ministry is like Fudge and Scrimgeour. Second, despite everything they have done, there are threats of such consequence, that they can make wizard conflicts child's play. This was one such occasion._

_A few days prior, an archeological dig in Sunnydale had revealed the body of the demon Acathla. If this demon were ever awakened, he would in a matter of minutes swallow this entire dimension. What is more, the only possible creature capable of waking Acathla was the vampire Angelus, and there had already been news of his reappearance in Sunnydale. The consequences of this were so horrific that we decided we could not let the Slayer handle it on her own. I boarded the next flight to Los Angeles._

_I have lived a long life, Harry, far longer than even the average wizard, and I have seen many horrible and extraordinary things within it,. Despite all that, I am still having trouble putting exactly what happened into terms that you'll be able to understand._

_When I landed in California, the first thing I did was to utilize a technique that only the most advanced wizards practice. I attempted to sense the magical auras that surrounded Sunnydale for any influx of power. This is not an easy task even for advanced wizards, and it is far more difficult to do within shouting distance of a Hellmouth. Any Hellmouth has the effect of creating the magical equivalent of a great black cloud around the surrounding areas. This is one of the reasons that so few wizards have been recruited from those areas - the cloud makes it difficult for fledgling auras to penetrate that darkness._

_I sensed a great influx of magic not long thereafter. It was of such an ancient nature and so strong that it could only have been connected with the rituals that led to the awakening of Acathla. Even though it was extremely risky, I Apparated to Sunnydale as quickly as I dared._

_The sun was coming up just as I arrived. And then- something happened. A bright concentration of magic, new and powerful, burst forth in a intensity so great it broke through the darkness surrounding the Hellmouth. It didn't last long - less than two minutes- but when it was over, I knew, somehow, that the threat had been neutralized._

_When I arrived, Acathla had been rendered dormant, and there was no sign of Angelus anywhere. I don't know what has become of Angelus, but he has not been seen since. Whether he was staked or whether he fled to fight another day was not an issue._

_I spent the next day trying to figure out who might be the source of the magic, but as bright and as fast as the magic had exploded, that is how quickly it disappeared. By the end of the day, the town was as close to normal as any town on a Hellmouth can be. Had I more time to spend in Sunnydale, I would have narrowed it down still further, but I received an emergency owl from the Order telling me of problems in England. I will leave on the late flight out._

_Harry, as someone who has spent his life observing and instructing wizards, I know when someone powerful is around. Whoever this wizard or witch was - and I believe it to be the latter; females are more common magic users around Hellmouths- she had the potential to be incredibly strong. Obviously, she hasn't had any formal training, or someone in the Wizarding world would have located her already. She has the potential to be a great wizard, but whether that magic will be used for good or evil depends entirely on who gets to her first._

_And Voldemort has to be aware of what has happened. Even a continent away, this magic will be detectable, and he is too powerful a wizard to not notice it. I don't know if she is powerful enough to help us win the war, but she might be the critical factor._

_With the death of Jenny Calendar two months ago, there is only one real candidate. Two years ago, a powerful witch named Catherine Madison was known to be active in America. She has since disappeared. Her daughter Amy, however, is still attending Sunnydale High._

_If you are reading this letter, Harry, you have traveled a great distance already. Yet I know that the road ahead of you is even longer than that. I wish that I could be there to see the end of this journey. However, to prepare for it, I have taken one last measure._

_On the day of your birth, your parents did what so many parents do when they have children - they set some money aside for your future, with the intention of making more deposits on each succeeding birthday until you were of age. Voldemort stopped them from making any additions to that account. But over a period of seventeen years, the rates of interest still compound. As one of the two living trustees to that account, I withdrew the money, and deposited it here, changed into muggle currency where it might do you the most good (and the exchange rate is higher). I am taking precautions to make sure it will be in the one place Voldemort would not look, and if he did, could do nothing to gain entry._

_The road ahead of you doesn't end at Sunnydale any more than it began at Godric's Hollow. Harry (and Hermione and Ron, I know that the two of you are there, as you have been ever since first year), the task ahead of you is no less difficult then it was when we started down the path at Voldemort's resurrection, but the forces of light will prevail. You may not believe that you are powerful enough to stand, but I believe in all of you. No father could be prouder than I have been of you._

_Godspeed,_

_Albus Dumbledore_

_A_s much as Harry had tried to prepare himself, the voice of Albus Dumbledore from beyond the grave caused his eyes to mist. His headmaster had not forsaken them at their hour of need.

Ron was moved a bit too, mainly because after what seemed like months of futility, they finally had something concrete to focus their energy on. "They have to know how to destroy these things in Sunnydale," he said. "God help me, I'll chuck them in the Hellmouth itself if I have to."

"Wonderful, Ron. For all we know, that will cause Voldemort to resurrect as the Master himself," Hermione replied.

"Herm, we have a solid lead on a Horcrux. We know about a witch who might be able to turn the tide. Why is this not good news?"

"I know all that, and believe me I am glad for that. It's just..." Hermione trailed off. "This was never about asking the Slayer for help. Dumbledore just wanted us to follow a different lead. "

"Hermione, you can't-"

"Buffy Summers had to be within shouting distance of Dumbledore," Hermione replied. "She was trying to stop an Apocalypse, not moments after being expelled and charged with murder. The most powerful wizard we know was in town, and he couldn't be bothered because something magical happened!"

There was a trace of Hermione's old fury over the Slayer in this rant, and Ron and Harry might have ignored it under other circumstances. But given what they had learned about Buffy second-hand- and Harry was sure that was just the tip of the iceberg- she had a valid point. Dumbledore was a very particular and compassionate man, but there was nothing in this letter about even checking to see if Buffy had even been alive. And even if he had, he'd been pretty cavalier about mentioning it to Remus.

Ron, for once, was tactful. "Maybe Dumbledore didn't come here for the reasons we thought," Ron replied. "That doesn't mean we can't follow through with the right ones. You came here in part because you wanted to help the Slayer. And that's exactly what we're going to do. Right, Harry?"

"As soon as possible," Harry asked. "How much money is here?" Hermione had been organizing the sheathes of bills while they'd been talking

"A little more than eleven thousand dollars," Hermione replied, a little surprised. "What are you thinking?"

"That we get on the next bus to Sunnydale and find Buffy and her friends as soon as we can," Harry told them.

"You sure, Harry?" Hermione asked.

"This may be my inheritance, but it's also blood money," Harry replied. "I can't think of a more fitting way to spend it then to find a way to stop Voldemort once and for all."

"Give me a minute to make this a bit inconspicuous," Hermione replied. "There are people on the streets of LA who aren't magical that would kill for this kind of money."

Harry then allowed himself to feel something he hadn't dared feel in months, even though it was cloaked in darkness.

Hope.

It took Hermione several minutes to camouflage and reduce the amount of money so that they could hide it in the valise they were carrying their things in. Considering the revelations that had come from the last few minutes, Harry was a little surprised that they'd spent less than an hour in the secret room.

When the three of them finally emerged the Host was sitting at the head of the stage, singing to himself. Harry admitted to being surprised that this creature had such a lovely baritone.

"You get what you need?" he asked casually as the three emerged.

Harry walked up to the front of the room, and shook the Host's hand heartily. "I don't know how to thank you," he said.

"For what? Using my place of business as a baggage claim? Think nothing of it, Harry my man," the Host replied. "It looks like the three of you have miles to go before you can sleep. I consider it a privilege just to be a stop along your journey."

All of a sudden, Harry came crashing back to earth. If the demon world knew about what he and his friends were up to, all their secrecy might well be for naught. He didn't want to ask the next question. "Um, the three of us," he began slowly. "you knew who we were. Did you know that right now we're not exactly-"

"- high on the Dark Lord's Christmas card list?" the Host finished for them. "I try to take all gossip with a grain of salt, but you have a position like mine, you can't help but hear idle chatter."

Hermione was now concerned. "If that's the case, why hasn't someone from the Ministry snatched us off the street by now?" she demanded. "I mean, we've tried to be secretive, but we must have left a trail by now."

The demon was fixing them with a wary eye. "What have you kids been doing that has you in such a state?" He didn't sound demanding, just curious. "Look, I won't pretend to understand what's going on in the supernatural community in your part of the atlas. Though from what I've heard this Voldemort cat is trying to build his own Rainbow Coalition of the demonic world."

The three of them didn't get the phrasing, but the implication was clear enough. "So answer the question," Hermione replied.

"Right now, the magical community here is playing Switzerland," the Host told them. "And most of the demons in America, they're taking a wait-and-see approach. I understand that you wizards can live a long time, but to a lot of the major players in my neck of the woods, that's a drop in the bucket. Some don't think that your Dark Lord has the staying power to last in this particular sandbox."

To hear the threat that had been hanging over their heads for the last two years dismissed in two sentences made the three of them a little pissed. "They don't think he's a threat?" Ron said incredulously.

"You ever been in a demon dimension. I came from one of the worst. Demons treating humans like they were no better than livestock. No music or love to liven the mood. A lot of bloodshed and cruelty. I was lucky to get out. And the sad part? Pylea actually rated pretty low on the Zagat's Guide in terms of general unpleasantness. " The demon looked at them. "I've heard how horrible a place Azkaban is, but there are some creatures in this city who could do a couple of decades there, standing on their heads."

This wasn't the picture of the supernatural world they had been getting from Hogwarts. Harry decided that since they had a literal font of mystical information, they might as well tap it. "Does the name Wolfram & Hart mean anything to you?"

It was very hard to tell with someone with skin that green, but Harry thought he momentarily paled. "So you've heard of our Resident Evil?" the demon replied.

"What are they?" Hermione demanded.

"The only people on this earth more ruthless than the Dark Lord," the Host told them. "Lawyers."

Harry's first reaction was to laugh; it sounded like one of those Muggle jokes he might hear at the Dursleys. But the demon had said it with what appeared to be total seriousness.

"They can't be that bad," Ron replied. "I mean, the worst attorney is still just a muggle."

"_Someone _missed the Trial of the Century," The Host seemed to be joking. "Look, all I can tell you is what I hear on the street. And the word is that these people are seriously bad news. And have been for a very, very long time. So, whatever you do, stay well clear of them."

Harry thought this demon was trustworthy. Nevertheless, he made two abrupt decisions.: not to tell him any more of his business, and to get out of Los Angeles as fast as possible (as if he needed a better reason).

"Good luck to you," Harry replied.

"Same to you, young man," the demon replied. "And try to put on a happy face. You have more friends then you realize."

For the first time, Harry was beginning to think that might be true.


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

After a stop back at their hostel, they went to the nearest bus depot, and got tickets for the next bus to Sunnydale. However, they ran into one final obstacle, which only demonstrated that they had gotten used to the temperate climate.

"What do you mean the roads are closed?" Hermione sounded genuinely exasperated.

"Hey, you're not the only one being put out," the clerk told them. "But they've got reports of a heavy snowfall all through the area."

"It's eighty degrees here," Harry pointed out.

"Hey, I don't cause the weather; I just deal with the consequences," the irritated agent replied. "It's like Sunnydale's under a big black cloud of crazy. They've had earthquakes, toads fell from the sky, and now an extreme cold front seems to have localized itself entirely over the town. Not that anyone in their right mind would want to go to that shitburg, but it's like they're not exactly welcoming the tourists."

"We finally get ready to go, and the Hellmouth starts hiccupping," Ron was sounding a little exasperated. "Hermione, you've done the research; what kind of apocalyptic event is proceeded by a giant snowfall?"

For once, Hermione didn't have a ready answer. "Maybe this is some primitive way to keep out intruders," she replied. "It would explain why it's so localized, but I can't imagine it lasting in a place this warm."

Harry was quiet for a moment , then went back to the clerk. "Radio have any idea how long it'll be before the roads are traversable again?"

"They're not exactly prepared for this kind of thing here," the clerk admitted. "Add to the fact that probably half the road crews are on vacation, maybe another day."

"How close could we get to Sunnydale? What's the nearest town?"

"Um, Tustin, It's about ten miles away from the town." The clerk checked the schedule. "Next bus leaves in an hour."

Harry went back to the others looked "If this is magic, the Hellmouth or whatever, I don't think we can afford to wait any longer. Hell, walking to Sunnydale from there wouldn't take that long"I'm with you," Ron replied.

Hermione just asked for the price of three tickets. If the clerk was at all surprised to be paid four hundred dollars in cash, he didn't let on. "There'll be a boarding call in thirty minutes, tell you where to go," he said. "By the way, Merry Christmas."

They'd been paying attention to the calendar ever since they got here, but none of them had wanted to acknowledge that this was the first Christmas in six years that they weren't spending with their loved ones. They'd all managed to regulate their emotions about being in hiding, but this still hurt. Harry had never been more aware of how much he missed Hogwarts than this moment

They dealt with this the same way they'd been handling everything else that made them homesick - they compartmentalized it to deal with on another day. When that other day was going to come, none of them could clearly see, but right now, they had to worry about the present. Otherwise, they wouldn't have a future.

The bus to Tustin was only about a third full, and none of the other passengers seemed even modestly concerned about the three teenagers in the corner. Nevertheless, they put up more than a few Mufflato charms to make sure they weren't heard.

"Even if there is a fair amount of inclement weather, we'll probably be at Sunnydale by the end of the day," Harry told them.

"You sure coming in at night is our best option?" When Harry and Hermione looked at him, Ron soldiered on. "Hey, I like the idea of sneaking in under the cover of darkness as much as anyone, but we've just spent the last two months getting briefed on what living on a Hellmouth is like. I don't want to have spent so much time on this, only to end up getting bitten the minute we walk in the door."

Even though Harry was pretty sure the three of them could handle things, he had to admit that there was some logic to this. What's more, there was another legitimate point to consider. Buffy and her friends would be celebrating the Christmas holidays as well, and given that they seemed to be fighting a war, they'd probably jump at any excuse to get off the Hellmouth, even for a few days. They might get to Sunnydale to find they'd have to wait another few weeks just to talk to them, a prospect Harry found nearly intolerable.

Hermione had two counter-arguments. "First of all, American have much briefer school recesses then we do. They'd probably be back for classes just after New Year's. Second of all, considering the level of threat from the Hellmouth, I seriously doubt her Watcher would allow her to leave for that long."

There was enough frustration and resentment in that last statement that Harry had felt that he had to ask. "Hermione, are we going to have a problem with you with her Watcher?"

"Harry, we need Buffy's help, and probably the assistance of her friends- though I do have real concerns about getting Muggles involved with our problems no matter how great the threat," Hermione deliberately paused. "But the bottom line is, I don't trust the Watcher's Council, and if this Rupert Giles tows the party line, then yes, we're going to have a problem with him."

Harry looked towards Ron, but for once, he was in total accord with Hermione. "These people were perfectly willing to let Buffy die in order to save the world," Ron reminded him. "They toy with girls' lives like they're just pieces on a chessboard. And I seriously doubt this Giles is any different."

"It's actually worse than that," Hermione replied. "When we meet up with Buffy either tonight or tomorrow, I'm going to find out whether my theories on the Slayer have any backing. If they do..." She trailed off for a moment "I realize that this isn't the time or place for it, but at some point there's going to be a reckoning due to what these Watchers have been doing for thousands of years, and considering what we've already witnessed because of the Ministry's bungling, I actually think these crimes might be even worse."

Harry had a vague idea what these crimes might be, but when he and Ron again pressed Hermione to explain, she demurred. "You're going to get the answers very soon," she reminded them. "Probably by tomorrow night at the latest. Until then, I want to make sure that Buffy knows first."

"Can't you at least tell us why?" Ron demanded.

"According to all the articles I read in the Prophet, Buffy has saved her Watcher's life at least four times," Hermione reminded them. "Despite everything connected with being a Slayer, she's probably very close to Rupert Giles. Telling her this kind of news will be devastating, and I don't know about you, but I'm not happy about maybe having to destroy one of the few things she thought she could count on. There's just as much a chance she'll come at me then at Giles."

"Hermione, we can protect you-" Ron started.

"I'm not afraid of an angry Buffy Summers," Harry could tell she was lying because there was the mildest of tremors in Hermione's voice. "But there's a very good chance that she's not going to want to do me any favors after this. If you and Ron don't know, you'll have what Muggles call 'plausible deniability'. You'll at least have a chance of dealing with her."

Harry began to wonder if Hermione was really talking out of the other side of her mouth, but decided to let this go, at least for now. They spent the remainder of the bus ride trying to hash out ways to find Buffy and her friends when they got there.

Hermione thought that it would be much easier than their searches during the last two months - in comparison to LA, or for that matter, Tustin, Sunnydale was little more than a hamlet. All they'd have to do was find a phone book, and Buffy, hell, all of the wrecking crew, would be reachable in a matter of minutes. Hermione did, however, recommend that they stay together for as long as possible. In that much, she agreed with Harry.

One thing that Remus had made clear was, even given six years of training in Defense Against the Dark Arts, nothing prepared you for life on a Hellmouth.

It was just a little after three when they got off the bus in Tustin. By Harry's calculations, even if they walked the remaining distance, they could be on the outskirts of Sunnydale by five-thirty.

According to the Prophet, that was ten minutes after sunset, and, even from second-hand information, a lot of vampires didn't even wait that long to start business as usual. Hermione was surprised there wasn't some kind of curfew in place given how high the death rate was. Instead, there seemed to be some kind of group-think that allowed everybody to keep operating under the impression that Sunnydale was 'normal'.

The road map they purchased from the Tustin bus station revealed that there were some motels on the outskirts of Sunnydale proper. Harry knew that even the cheapest place to live would very quickly eat into the money that his parents had left him, but they needed somewhere to serve as a base, at least until they'd had a better look at the lay of the land. They could cast some charms to ensure that neither vampire nor demon could enter, and grant them relative safety, while they narrowed down the location of Buffy and her schoolmates.

They considered getting a taxi to take them the rest of the way but they couldn't find a single cabbie who wanted to drive to Sunnydale. Maybe all the Muggles weren't as obtuse about the dangers as they seemed.

"What do you say, friends?" Ron told them, with flicker of the Weasley wit. "Undead to the left of us, undead to the right of us; Into the mouth of hell walk - well, I seriously doubt we could get another six hundred people to go on this little journey."

Harry and Hermione were impressed. "I didn't think you paid that much attention to poetry," Hermione responded. "When did you read Tennyson?"

Ron shrugged. "I had to find something constructive to do when that toad Umbridge was teaching us," he replied. "There were some times I actually wanted her to catch me. To tell her that Muggle poetry was more valuable than DADA..." He shook his head. "Then Fred and George told me that there were easier ways to get to her. I guess I had to stay true to the Weasley tradition."

He gave a small bow. "Maybe I'll give the stuff another try when we get through saving Buffy," he told her. "Anyway, we've got a bit of a walk ahead of us if we want to get to Sunnydale before dark."

The final leg of the trip to Sunnydale was surprisingly tame. Harry wasn't sure what he'd been expecting now that they were almost there - fences with barbed wires, armed guards marching the streets, but the roads to Sunnydale were almost completely empty. They passed an occasional vehicle going in the opposite direction, but that was about it. The reasonable explanation was that everybody who wanted to leave had gone on holiday or that perhaps they were still dealing with clearing up the snowfall that appeared when they got within a few miles of the town.

In retrospect, Harry was grateful for this minor respite. He didn't know it, but this was to be the last real patch of uneventful activity that any of them would have for a very long time.

Despite its name, the John C. Fremont Motor Court was little better than the Shrieking Shack. The walls were thin, the beds were hard, the furniture little more than vinyl. The Hyperion seemed safe by comparison.

It did, however, serve two purposes. The rates were inexpensive, and it had a Yellow Pages for Sunnydale. While Hermione and Ron worked on various spells to make sure the place was relatively demon proof, Harry followed the tagline he'd heard, and let his fingers do the walking.

Joyce Summers still lived in Sunnydale on 1630 Revello Drive. Harry had no intention of calling her home, only to have to have one of the most awkward conversations ever about whether her daughter knew what was going on. Still, he took the number down.

Rupert Giles was still in the book as well. There was also only one Rosenberg in the book, so Willow's parents were still there. Nailing down the Harrises and the Chases would probably take a process of elimination, but there weren't a lot of possibilities. The town was actually smaller than they had thought.

"Well, the good news is, no vampires or demons can now invade these rooms," Hermione said as she finished her chanting. "I wouldn't want to lay the same odds about us being taken down by, say, termites."

"I'm not convinced we wouldn't be better off sleeping outside," Ron argued. "I hope this is temporary even for temporary accommodations."

Harry hoped that they wouldn't be staying here long, either, but he didn't think that the Slayer and her friends had stayed alive as long as they had by letting complete strangers stay with them. He wasn't even ruling out the possibility that they might still tell them to get lost.

Ron looked at his watch. "Seven o'clock," he replied. "Well, right now our options are either see what's on the telly, or do what we came here to do, and track down Buffy Summers."

Harry was a little surprised Ron was even suggesting this idea, considering his ambivalence yesterday. "Why the sudden change of mind?"

"Because I've spent the last half-hour getting a good look and listen to where we are," Ron told them. "There aren't a lot of people walking the streets considering how early it is. And I'm pretty sure that I heard at least one person scream, and nothing happened. I mean, I don't know if the police would be able to _help_ in case of a supernatural attack, but these people are acting like it's normal."

"If they've lived here for even a little while, they have to know how dangerous it can get," Hermione pointed out. "But Ron's right. If there's one thing that was just below the surface of everything I read in the Prophet, it's that everybody in Sunnydale just seems let these horrible things happen, without so much as a whimper. Children are the most common victim of these undead, and this town just tends to let that stand as status quo. That's got to be what gets Buffy out of bed in morning." Hermione paused. "Assuming she sleeps at all."

Harry had begun to realize that while for the last three years he had _felt _like the weight of the world was on his shoulders, in Buffy Summers' case, it might actually be true. If nothing else, he hoped that meeting her might bring about some way to bring relief for both of them. Which was probably the reason he was even considering this idea even though it was borderline lunacy.

"You really want to do this?" he said to his friends.

"Hell," Ron said. "for the last two months we've done little more than chase our tails. I don't even want to think how bad things have gotten back at Hogwarts by now, and we've got next to sod-all to show for it. This is actually a place where we can do some good, even if Buffy tells us she's too busy to leave the Hellmouth. I need to feel like I'm doing something useful."

Harry looked at Hermione, expecting an argument. "We're more likely to run into Buffy at night," she said instead. "She makes the rounds of the Hellmouth's darkest corners, as they put it. Our best chance of finding her, and proving our good faith comes if we wander the streets of Sunnydale until we find her. And, you have to admit, we're at far less risk than anyone else in the town."

Harry felt much the same way. Even though he hadn't had a vision of Voldemort since they had come to America, it had done little to improve his overall mood. He was beginning to feel that he was going native- that the distance was separating him from a battle he should be engaged in. He wanted to pick a fight, even if it was with a vampire, which was why he let his gut overrule his head

"Where should we start?" he asked.

Considering everything that they'd been through, it was a little odd that Hermione was skittish about answering. "Cemeteries," she finally told them. "Most vampires emerge from their graves. She'd have to patrol them just to keep up with the traffic."

Harry understood then her hesitation, but considering all the funerals he'd had to attend over the past couple of years, remembering the place where Voldemort had literally been reborn seemed trivial in comparison to the battle they were waging now.

"All right," he said. "But we don't take any stupid risks. We travel in a group at all times. "

"You do know that there are eighteen cemeteries in Sunnydale?" Ron said, taking out the map.

"The odds don't get much better if we start dividing them up," Harry reminded them. "Besides, we need to be safe."

"And as to finding her?"

"Maybe we'll get lucky."

More than four hours later, Harry was beginning to wish that he'd never been so cocky. They had walked the length of half of the town's graveyards, and there had been no sign of the Slayer or any of her friends. Of course, that didn't mean that things had been _quiet._

It was one thing to know that vampires burrowed out from under their graves; it was another to actually see it. The first time that it happened had come as a huge shock to all of them, and had beeN enough to paralyze them - for about fifteen seconds. Then all the lessons that years of DADA had taught them had kicked in, and all three of them had cast an _incendio _spell on the poor undead. He didn't so much ignite as vaporize.

Harry had been sure that a noise like that _had _to raise attention, even in the middle of a veritable necropolis, but nary a soul stirred, in or out. It was, however, only the first of their experiences with the undead population of Sunnydale. And even though they'd never seen a silent movie, it was beginning to take on the appearance of something out of one of those comedies.

Vampire emerges from beneath their tombstone. Vampire spots three strangely dressed but still presumably delicious teenagers. Vampire comes running at them, only to face a horrible flaming death, at the hands of one, two or all three of self-same teenagers.

While this was doing them a great deal of good when it came to relieving some of their stress, it wasn't getting them any closer to finding the Slayer. What they didn't know was that while the human population of Sunnydale didn't seem to give a tinker's cuss about what was happening, rumors were already starting to spread among the undead residents. A couple of vampires looking for fresh meat saw what was happening, and began to carefully make for safer ground. By the time Harry and his friends had finished with their patrol of the seventh cemetery, they had been reported to some of the other higher-echelon demons in Sunnydale, who understandably (from their perspective, in any case) were rather pissed that a bunch of teenage magicians was apparently making, a power play. And by the time the eighth graveyard had been dealt with, they had a plan.

Another thing the trio didn't know was that they'd also been spotted by one of Trick's lackeys, who had an idea of who held the real power in Sunnydale, and that they might be interested, but for completely different reasons. He therefore elected not to get involved, which probably extended his life by a few days.

"Not that I'm ungrateful for the exercise," Hermione was saying, "but we're not here to do Buffy's job for her. She finds out that there's no activity in her usual haunts, and she might be inclined to call it an early night."

"You don't really believe that, do you?" Harry asked quizzically.

Hermione thought this over for a couple of seconds. "Not really," she admitted. "If she really is on holiday, she won't have as much of a problem staying out past curfew. The chances are probably better that we'll run into her."

"So what's the problem?" Ron asked.

"We've got to at least pretend that we're keeping a low profile," Hermione reminded them. "A group of teenagers going around roasting vampires like they were marshmallows might attract the wrong type of attention."

Ron looked around. "Right now, the score in this particular battle is: Hogwarts, thirteen, Sunnydale Undead, zero," he reminded her. "In order for gossip to spread, that requires a survivor, and so far we've left none behind. Maybe the Sunnydale undead are even thicker than the average live Sunnydaler."

"So far, we've just been dealing with the freshly turned," Hermione reminded him. "Vampires that have survived more than a few years may present more of a problem. And we'd better hope that Angelus and William the Bloody really have departed for a warmer climate. I don't fancy facing them in a dark alley, and trust me, this town is full of them."

"You got _that_ right!"

The three of them all stiffened. That was a new voice. Given where they were, nothing good could come from this.

Harry was about to casting his _lumos _spell, when he saw the speaker get up from behind his tombstone rather than from beneath it.

"You know we vampires may be a particularly thick lot," this vampire told them, "but this town does have a particularly high learning curve. You might be able to send one, or two, shit, maybe even a dozen of us, to a fiery end. But eventually, we do catch on."

The three of them looked straight ahead. More than a dozen vampires were emerging from among the mausoleums and other brick-a-brac that decorated the graveyard. And they looked particularly angry.

"How many do you think we can take before one gets through?" Harry whispered.

"Not really sure," Hermione's voice remained steady, but her hand displayed the most miniscule of tremors. She was afraid. "But I have a feeling we're going to find out very quickly."

"Harry, the next time I say we should wander through a graveyard looking for a Slayer, stupefy me, and lock the doors," Ron whispered.

"Next time." Harry acknowledged.

"Thirteen against three doesn't seem quite fair."

Everybody, heart beating or not, looked around for the speaker. It was a woman, and she seemed almost amused by the situation that Harry and his friends had gotten themselves into.

Harry wasn't quite sure, but he thought his jaw had drooped a few inches. The speaker was a short, dark-haired, shabbily clothed girl. Three thoughts crossed his mind at the same time. _This isn't Buffy Summers. This is a Slayer. And holy crap, she's gorgeous!_

"Try thirteen against one instead. I'll even spot you guys the first four."

Were all Slayers this arrogant? Harry couldn't even tell if she was armed. But he could definitely sense a mood shift in the vampires that were threatening them. They now seemed a little unsure.

The leader, however, gave no sign of this. "Come on, damn it," he said. "We can take her. Just don't go for her one at a time."

"Someone's been watching his Bruce Lee. Unfortunately, he forgets that these stories all end the same way," The dark-haired girl removed a stake from her jacket. "With a giant pile of ash from sea to shining sea."

Even though they were involved in it, what happened next took place at such lightning speed that none of the wizards were quite sure what the order of events was. What they could agree on was that two of the vampires made the first move, and inexplicably (at least from Harry's point of view) they went for the Slayer.

It was one thing to be taught that there is a girl who has been bestowed with superhuman speed and strength; it was another to actually see it. She moved with the rapidity that Harry was pretty sure that no wizard could match, delivering a series of jabs and kicks that had the vampires on their heels before they could begin to mount a proper defense. One of them then slashed at the Slayer's throat, while the other tried to trip her from behind. She ducked these blows, and retaliated by slamming her stake into the chest of one of them. Before he had time to watch the vampire explode in a cloud of dust, she did a back somersault and kicked the other vamp in the noggin.

That was about the only observation Harry could make because right then two things happened nearly simultaneously: the vampires remembered that they had prisoners, and Harry and his friends remembered they had been doing a pretty decent job of destroying vampires before the new Slayer had arrived. Seven began to move in on the wizards, while the other four ran to aide their comrade.

Up until now, none of the vampires that the wizards had attacked had put up much resistance. But these undead were a lot cagier than the group they'd been slaughtering. When Ron threw an incendio spell right at one, he managed to almost completely dodge it, and when his leather jacket caught on fire as a result, he had the good sense to cast it off.

"That was Armani, you son of a bitch!" the vamp shouted, and then made another attack from his right flank.

_"Stupefy!" _Ron yelled, and stopped one attacker in his tracks. He then cast an incendio spell, and just barely touched it with his wand. He had no time to celebrate, however, because the second vamp managed to kick his wand out of his hands.

"Ron! Duck!" Hermione yelled, as she cast a lightning spell on the same vamp who was about to rip Ron's throat out. Ron's life was saved, but it looked as if Hermione was about to pay for that with her own.

Ron then did something that made no sense- he ran in front of the vampire while shouting "Accio wand!" His wand then began to fly at him, but in order to do so, it had to go through the attacker- which is what it literally did. Essentially, Ron had just thrown his wand through the vampire's heart nearly as effectively as any Slayer could have thrown a stake.

They had now taken out three vampires, and the dark-haired girl had managed to take out another two simultaneously. That still left seven, and none of these creatures had been holding still during this particular round of attacks. Realizing the wands were apparently their source of power, the undead now hit upon a different plan of attack.

One of them removed a switchblade knife from his pocket - practically long enough to stand in for a bayonet- and began to slash at Hermione's hand, almost as if he was swinging a sword. Hermione tried to cast a spell, but the art of dodging the thrusting was making it difficult for her to complete her chant. Finally, she did and managed to incinerate it, but she paid a definite price for it. She had backed right into another vampire, and, he grabbed her in a choke-hold, strong enough for her to drop her wand

"All right!" he shouted. "Drop your wands or I snap your friend's neck!"

Harry swore. He hadn't exactly been idle during all this- he'd managed to take out one of the other vamps, and he had another one the verge of being dusted- but that still left five, all of whom seemed to have intuited that the wizards were the greater threat then the Slayer, and had now managed to form a box around them.

"And why should we trust you?" Ron managed to shout without his voice trembling. "You're not exactly considered the most honest of creatures."

"We're not exactly known for our _patience_, either!" The vamp took a tighter grip around Hermione.

Harry and Ron were both fast on their wands, but neither of them had any illusions they could incinerate the creature holding Hermione without at least hurting her. The Slayer might be able to help them, but-

They looked around to find that the other girl seemed to have disappeared while this last exchange had been going on. Harry didn't think that the Slayer had abandoned them (she might not be Buffy Summers, but she hadn't blanched at taking on a dozen vampires, so she didn't scare) but he had no idea what her plan was - assuming that she had one.

"How about a trade?" he shouted instead. "You let her go, and we all walk away from this!" As the creature considered this, he added (hoping Hermione didn't mistake the meaning): "You know how many of your kind we've already killed! Five more isn't exactly any sweat off our brows!"

"Really?" The vamp raised an eyebrow. "Then why are you sweating?"

_Damn these vamp__s__ have good eyesight._ Harry was about to make an attempt to incinerate this one. It would be a hell of a final exam in a subject he had never studied, but he had to save Hermione. However, before he could get a word out, he heard a swish, and then the vamp got a very perplexed look on his face.

Which lasted until he exploded into dust.

Harry didn't know how the Slayer had gotten the drop on them, but he had no intention of letting the edge get away. Before two of the other vampires could react, both he and Ron cast an incendio spell on them.

Now seeing that the numbers were finally against them, the remaining undead made their wisest move and started to run off. They didn't get much further before there were two more swishes, followed by the remaining vamps disintegrating.

Hermione reached for her wand.

"If I were you, I'd stay very still!"

All three of them located the sound of her voice. At the crest of a hill, the vampire slayer was crouched in a sniper's position, with what looked to be a crossbow. And from the look on her face, Harry thought that she seemed more than willing to remove any threat without thinking twice.

Hermione didn't move a muscle. "We're not your enemy," she told her.

"No, but you ain't exactly harmless either," the Slayer replied. "How about you explain what three innocent kids are doing in the most dangerous place on earth?"

There was no easy way to go about this, so Hermione tried: "We were looking for you."

"Congratulations. You found me. Care to explain why?"

"There's a major crisis that requires the Slayer's help," Ron tried.

"Take a number. Now explain how you know who I am."

Hermione figured that nothing but total honesty was going to get them out of this situation intact. "We didn't. We came looking for Buffy Summers, and seeing how you fought I can only assume she's dead, and that you've taken her place."

Harry wasn't sure, but he thought he saw a flash of pain on the woman's face. When she spoke, though, a lighter tone infused her voice. "Man, word travels slow outside Sunnydale. B's still alive."

This was a response not even Hermione was prepared for. "But-but, you're also a Slayer?" she managed to get out.

"What can I say? Buy one Slayer, get the second free." She might have been amused by these proceedings, but she wasn't taking her finger off the trigger.

They had to get out of this situation. "Look, can't we talk reasonably about this?" Harry asked.

"Of course, you Brits always want to be civilized." The Slayer's voice got hard. "The last people with accents who took that approach tried to kill me, so you're going to have to do better."

Harry realized that he was going to have to make an offering of sorts, so very carefully and showily, he placed his wand on the ground. Ron got what he was doing, sighed and did likewise.

"This enough trust for you?" he asked.

The Slayer hesitated for a very long moment, then finally put the crossbow over her shoulder. "All right," she said slowly. "Now how 'bout you answer some questions? Starting with, you're obviously not from around here, so how did you know what a Slayer is?"

Hermione answered this question. "You've probably figured out that we're wizards, right?"

"Haven't seen any honest-to-God magic wands before," the Slayer replied. "But since I don't know anyone else who can make flamethrowers out of sticks, I'll give you that."

"The wizarding world pays a great deal of attention to what's going on Hellmouths," Hermione replied. "We're well aware of that the Slayer-"

"_Buffy." _There was definite pain in her voice this time. "You came looking for her, and you found me. And it clearly was a shock to the system to think she was dead. So your information's clearly a bit out of date."

Ron finally seemed to come out of the stupor he'd been in since the crossbow had been trained on him. "Look, Miss-um-"

"The name is Faith," the Slayer finally replied after Ron went on like this for a few seconds.

"We'll answer any questions you want, if we can get out of this bloody graveyard before more vampires come looking for us."

"Vamp's in this town are dumb, but they ain't that dumb." Nevertheless, Faith apparently seemed to agree that this wasn't the most private place in the world to have a conversation. She let them pick up their wands, and began to scan the horizon.

"Faith," Hermione seemed to struggle with this for a few seconds, then plunged ahead. "Where is Buffy?"

"She's out patrolling the other half of town," Faith managed a smile. "She got a bit concerned about gossip that someone was in town barbecuing vampires." She looked at them. "And people say _I _need to hold back a bit."

"We were looking for her on a matter of some urgency. We're willing to explain, but is there anyway that you could make contact with your Watcher and any of your friends?"

Once again, a look of pain briefly flashed across Faith's face. "You mean the Scoobies? They're her friends, not mine." She looked at them for a moment. "And why should I lead you to them?"

"Because it's a very long explanation," Harry told her. "And it would be easier to tell it only once."

Faith considered this for a few moments, then shrugged. "What the hell. It'll be fun seeing Red's face when you make your wand explode."

She began walking off. The three of them followed, having a fair amount of trouble matching her pace.

None of them knew that they were being observed by a young black vampire in a fancy suit.

"Looks like there's a new player in town," Trick muttered to his two accomplices. "And they've just hooked up with Public Enemy Number Two. The Boss is not going to be happy."

He took out his cell, and hit speed-dial. "Yeah, it's me. We may have a problem." He hesitated. "That timetable you mentioned a few days ago? You may want to accelerate it."


	8. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

When Harry had been going to 'normal' school in England, he had never given much thought to what the teachers did when students went on holiday. God knew that things had been bad enough at the Dursleys' that if he'd been offered the opportunity, he probably would've stayed around.

So when Faith told them that they were going to Sunnydale High, and then shrugged off the fact that winter break was still going on, Harry wondered whether this was an American quirk or whether this had some more sinister aspects. Faith didn't think much of it.

"I think Giles' actually gets his rocks off by cross-referencing. Dude probably wishes that there were more months on the calendar."

Hermione clearly didn't approve of this- it no doubt fed into her already slanted position on what the Watchers should and shouldn't be doing. She was stopped cold, however, when she walked into the library.

Harry was pretty sure that Hermione's eyes had all but fallen out of her sockets. The library wasn't nearly the size of Hogwarts', but judging from the titles and the conditions the books were in, it was probably a fair rival to just about any collection of magical tomes in the country.

"Ah- buh- wha-" was all Hermione seemed capable of saying for a good couple of minutes.

Faith actually seemed amused by her reaction. "Girl must be really repressed if this is all it takes for her to get off."

Before Harry could even react to something that off-color, they heard someone approaching. "Faith, what have we told you about picking up strays?"

Harry and Ron looked up (Hermione seemed incapable of doing anything that involved taking her eyes off the bookshelves) to see a young man about their age with dark hair, looking at them amusedly. "Not that we mind someone admiring the library. Giles hasn't had a customer since- ever."

Faith looked up. "Speaking of the G-man, where is he?"

"Aren't you going introduce me to these little lost lambs?" Xander replied. "Who I hope at least have a pulse."

"The boys are Harry and Ron; the girl who looks like she's going to come any minute is Hermione," Faith tossed off. "They're the three pyros that the living impaired have been bitching about the last couple hours."

"But Giles, according to the Chronicles, fire breathers walking the earth is not unheard off in the end of Millennium cults!" a female voice argued firmly.

"We're still a year away from that by any calendar."

"Maybe they're, um, getting an early start?"

"Willow, how much of this is residual worry about Y2K?"

There was a slight pause. "I'm telling you, Giles, one failed computer clock, and..." The conversation trailed off, as the speakers entered the room and got a good look at the people in the reading room. The female speaker, a teenage girl with hair so red that it made Ron's look dingy by comparison, did a double take, and began to sputter herself. "Um, thank you, Mr. Giles, for helping me with my, um, English assignment. This story will surely-"

"Relax, Will," The young man- obviously Xander Harris- replied. "Faith brought them in. They seem to be friendly. " He pointed at them. "Harry, I'm not sure, but I think your friend has to remember to breathe."

"An original copy of the Witch's Hammer," Hermione now seemed capable of forming words again. "Hobson's Treatise on Undersea Demons." She all but gaped. "The Perganum Codex! Most people thought it was myth."

Faith looked a little impressed. "Check out Willow 2.0," she replied. "Giles, you sure that they don't start turning out Watchers this young?"

By now, Giles had gotten a good look at the three of them. He was giving Harry the kind of look that he'd been receiving from strangers ever since he'd become a wizard. "They're not Watcher's-in-Training, " he replied slowly, as he took ofF his glasses. "If I'm not mistaken, they're wizards."

Willow's expression went from confused to fascinated very quickly. "Wizards, as in Gandalf and Saruman? As in David Eddings and Piers Anthony? That kind of wizard?"

"Saw their wands and everything, Red," Faith replied.

'Did they say 'A La Peanut Butter Sandwiches too?" Xander's grin faded as he saw what Ron and Harry were holding. "I gotta quit when I'm ahead."

Willow actually looked a little hurt, and turned to Giles. "You told me that studying the black arts was very dangerous. That it shouldn't be done by people our age."

"There may be a very good reason he told you that." Hermione suddenly sounded like she had snapped back to reality. "You're Rupert Giles, their watcher?"

Xander now looked a little amazed. "How do you know that?"

"He's not the only one who can read a newspaper," Hermione fixed Giles with a determined stare. "So you're Faith's watcher. Forgive me for saying this, but not very pleased to meet you."

Harry knew Hermione had it in for Watchers in general, but he thought she was going to at least hold it in until they could speak with Buffy and Faith. "We need this guy on our side," he started.

'Even someone who is guilty of flagrant abuses of the wizarding world?" Hermione's voice got colder. "Possession of this many magical texts is illegal without clearance from the Ministry, which I'll bet any amount of money that you don't have."

Xander and Willow looked a little concerned. "But this can't be that serious," Willow responded. "Couldn't you just let him off with a fine and probation?"

Ron and Harry now pulled Hermione aside. "Could we hold off the formal charges until after we've got the Slayers on our side?" Ron asked. "I know you've got it in for the Watchers, but still-"

"They've never exactly been my biggest boosters, either."

Everybody in the room looked up. The pictures of Buffy Summers didn't do her justice. If anything, she looked taller and more majestic than the Prophet had given evidence of. One thing that the photos had left out was her eyes. They were the eyes of Sirius Black and Remus Lupin; the weary and exhausted look of a warrior constantly involved in strife. Harry imagined that his eyes might look just the same to an outsider.

"I mean, just once, couldn't they let me get through one vacation without needing me to save the world?" Buffy said. "I mean, I've been through so many apocalypses, I should get frequent flyer miles for my Slayer card. But seriously folks," and she very casually reached towards her pocket "who are you and what are you doing in the library after school hours?"

"We're not sure, but they say they're wizards from England and that they've come looking for you," Xander replied. "I say we dunk them into water and see if they float."

Buffy spent the next minute looking at them. It was an uncanny feeling under her stare that reminded Harry a bit of Mad-Eye. "Let me guess - you're the 'demons' who spent the last few hours randomly burning vampires?"

"They clearly don't know what they're doing, B," Faith replied. "They'd 've been vampire party mix if I hadn't helped bail their ass out a few hours ago."

All three of the wizards were a little insulted at being lectured at, but none of them particularly wanted to offend women who could probably break them in two with their little fingers. "Look," Hermione replied, "I realize that it's in your nature not to trust new people, but you have no idea how long a trip we've been on just to see you."

"What am I, the La Brea tar pits?" Buffy replied. "Doesn't anybody from England know how to use the telephone?"

This argument might have had weight if Harry and his friends had been Muggles. Giles, however, seemed to understand their situation and gestured to Buffy. "I believe this situation actually is rather dire," he said.

"You said that when I walked and chewed gum at the same time," Buffy replied.

Apparently, this byplay was old hat to them, because Willow and Xander moved inside the room. "I think this is the part where we learn about the 'grave peril' that hinders our land," Xander replied.

"Please, sit down," Giles indicated. The three of them did, reluctantly. "Go ahead and explain."

"I'm Harry Potter."

Harry had just been starting to get used to people not recognizing his name. He had not, however, expected that the current Slayer(s) would be among them. "The Boy Who Lived," he tried again. Nothing. "The Child Who Defeated Voldemort?" He thought he could hear crickets chirping.

"Giles, this is some kind of twisted dating program, right?" Buffy finally said. "Boy Who Lived, meet the Girl Who Died? She pokes vampire with a sharp stick, he burns them with the same stick?"

"We're the most wanted fugitives in the wizarding world," Ron tried, with a hint of desperation. "We're wanted dead or alive by the Ministry of Magic."

"Forget it, Ron," Hermione was speaking again, and she sounded even angrier than before. "It's clear that the current Watcher has the same kind of indifference towards the magic world that they all have."

This got a reaction. Giles finally blinked a couple of times. "The Slayer has many threats deal with the Hellmouth," he began. "We have to hold the line here-"

"And when exactly were you going to tell them about Voldemort?" Ron was starting to sound angry for the first time. "When the Dark Lord showed up on the bloody doorstep?"

Faith spoke for the first time. "How bad is this situation? We talking apocalypse?"

"Yes," Harry replied.

"No," said Hermione simultaneously. "Potentially, this is far more serious."

"Um, end of the world, kind of trumps everything else," Xander replied.

"The situation is dangerous because the last thing Voldemort wants is the world destroyed," Hermione told them. "It would act counter to his long term plans."

'Which are?" Buffy asked.

"To completely rule the magical world, which he believes will allow him to command the rest of it," Harry told them.

There was a long pause. "This Dark Lord wouldn't happen to be a white mouse with a huge head, would it?" Xander replied.

Buffy seemed to ignore this. "This Volatile-"

"Voldemort," Giles quietly corrected.

"How close is he to doing what you say he is?" She was suddenly all business.

"He already has control of the Ministry of Magic, and probably most of the wizards under its command," Ron replied.

"Which amounts to what; fifteen wizards in a Humvee?" Faith asked almost breezily.

Up until now, Harry had been taking their attitude as ignorance; he was now starting to get angry. "I realize you're a very powerful girl," he began," but that doesn't give you the right to mock what's going on in our world. People are being killed."

"People are being killed here, too," Buffy's tone hadn't changed one bit, but she sounded a lot harder now. "No matter what I do anywhere, people are going to die. Now, I don't like this anymore than you do, but I'm going to go out on a limb and say that there are more wizards than there are Slayers."

Harry was about to argue that if there were two Slayers, they might be able to do more than any wizard could, then realized that this was the reason they had come to the library in the first place. '"Then I guess this is where we have to explain what the exact problem is," he told her.

"Hey, it's Christmas vacation. I don't know how your schools work, but we have to deal with long assignments over ours," Buffy replied.

Somehow, Harry thought teaching a long assignment about the History of Magic would be easier, but he opted not to say so. "I'm not sure where to begin," he added.

"Then I'll start," Hermione replied.

For the next three hours, they tried to give a summary of who Voldemort was, how the first war had begun more than a quarter of a century earlier, how the wizarding world had been engaged in a conflict with Voldemort that had ended suddenly after the Dark Lord had murdered Harry's parents, and had tried to kill Harry, only to somehow be destroyed by the reflection of a Killing Curse.

He told them how he had spent the first half of his childhood not knowing of his magical heritage, until his eleventh birthday when Hagrid had come to the house he had shared with the Dursleys, who had spent every moment of their lives trying to diminish him. (Xander and Willow seemed particularly fascinated by this section, for some reason). About his trip to Hogwarts, how he had met Ron and Hermione, and the adventures that the three of them had had over the past three years, about his parents' friends Remus and Sirius, and how they had tried to make his childhood easier.

Then he told them about the rise of the Death Eaters, and how Voldemort's servants Pettigrew and Barty Crouch had separately maneuvered Harry within the Tri-Wizard tournament, how Voldemort had been resurrected, and how the Ministry had spent the better part of a year trying to pretend that everything was status quo.

The story then got a lot more personal and exponentially more painful. Harry told them about the prophecy about himself and the Dark Lord that had been given after his birth, the one that said, only one could live. It didn't, however, provoke the reaction he'd expected, as all the teenagers in the library kept saying things like: "Yeah, cause things that are written are _always _right." They did, however, become far more solemn when they heard of Sirius' murder at the hands of Bellatrix Lestrange.

Harry hesitated a bit about telling them the next part - if he hadn't been about to tell Remus, who was far closer to them, about the Horcruxes, why should he tell these complete strangers? But Hermione and Ron had reminded him that they were going to need their help to get a hold of the Hufflepuff Cup, and they probably wouldn't accept 'magical relic' as an excuse. So he told them what he had learned of Tom Riddle's childhood, his time at Hogwarts, and how he had learned to split his soul into seven pieces. Two had been destroyed, but the price of obtaining the third had led, indirectly, to Dumbledore's death at the hands of Snape.

After baring his soul this broadly, it was almost a relief to explain the fall of the Ministry, and why they needed the Slayer's help in the first place. He stopped short of revealing the true reason for their journey here; he wanted to hear if they would be willing to go along with them.

Buffy and her friends asked a few questions for the purposes of clarity, but for the most part, they had remained respectfully silent. The silence remained for nearly a minute.

Buffy asked the first question, and it was not one that Harry had expected. "This prophecy- how convinced are you that's it's accurate?"

"Dumbledore was very sure of it," Harry told her. "He didn't think much of Trelawney's talents normally, but he did believe it had to play out like that."

"Lesson the first, kiddo," Xander replied. "Don't believe everything you're foretold. Buffy's literally living proof of that."

"What are you talking about?" Ron asked.

"You seem to know a lot about what's been going on in Sunnydale," Buffy replied. "Which, side note, I find a little creepy, a little flattering, and very frustrating. Therefore, maybe you know who the Master was, and how he was supposed to rise."

"We do," Hermione replied. "I can't speak for Ron and Harry, but I'd love to know how you survived the prophecy."

"I didn't."

That was not an answer any of them had expected. "But the prophecy said-"

"I died. I did." She looked at Xander. 'See, it never made clear for how long that death was going to last. Thanks to Xander, it was less than ten minutes."

Hermione did a one-eighty in her chair. "One dies; another rises," she whispered. "Buffy was dead, even for a few minutes, and the power of the Slayer was transferred into another girl. That's how come there are two of you."

"There's a bit more to it than that, but yeah," Buffy replied.

"Well, this confirms it. There's no other way for it to happen." Abruptly, she whirled around to Giles. "And I suppose it never occurred to you to ask your colleagues how an event of this magnitude could've happened without considering the consequences?"

"Easy, mama," Faith replied.

Hermione got out of her seat, and began to march towards Giles "You're either willfully ignorant or exceptionally careless, Frankly, I don't know which possibility is worse."

Buffy whirled around, and got directly into Hermione's path. "You don't want to do this," she told her, in a tone that would have sent a normal person running.

Hermione had stared down a basilisk when she was twelve, and been dodging Death Eaters for the last three years. And even though she should have known better, she kept going.

"You should be angry," Hermione replied. "You, of all people, you don't realize the crimes that these- these ignorant old men have perpetrated on you!"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Ron demanded.

"Magical energy!" Hermione replied. "That is the only way that the power of the Slayer can be sustained. Every time a Slayer dies, their power is transferred to the next girl in the Slayer line. The only way that a transfer this magnitude is possible is with a huge displacement of magical energy. Which means that the essence of that power is magical in origin."

Giles recoiled as if he'd been struck even though Hermione hadn't laid a finger on him. Harry felt like he'd been punched in the gut. Willow and Xander still seemed to be processing. So it was Ron was asked the only logical question.

"You're saying that Buffy is part witch?"

"I'm saying that every Slayer is, and always has been."

The two Slayers reactions were complete opposites. Faith looked around for a moment, smiled, and said: "Wicked." Buffy completely forgot Hermione and turned to her Watcher, looking like she'd been gutted.

"Is this true?" she asked, in a much smaller voice than she'd been using before.

It was then Harry got his first look at Giles' face. He looked nearly as stunned as Buffy. Either he was the world's most convincing actor (which Harry wasn't prepared to rule out; Watchers had to lie to the world every day to protect their charge) or he'd been as blindsided by this as his Slayer was.

"Why- how could they not tell us this?" Giles managed to say.

But Hermione was not prepared to give him any quarter. Considering what she was saying, she had a right to be angry

"That's your defense. You've spent your entire life studying the dark arts; this just didn't _occur_ to you?" Hermione demanded sarcastically. "As you Americans would put it, this is Magical Theory 101. These girls trust you with their lives, and you don't think this is necessary knowledge?"

"Herm," Harry tried.

"This isn't just these two girls. Hundreds, maybe thousands of women, have gone to their deaths not comprehending the full knowledge of the power they had," Hermione was now moving in. "As far as I'm concerned, you Watchers are responsible for nothing short of genocide."

There was a very long silence before Giles finally reacted to this. He took one of the empty chairs, picked up and threw it into one of the bookcases. Had Faith's reactions not been a bit quicker, she might have gotten clobbered by a treatise on the Polgara demon.

"Those bloody fools," he finally whispered, in a voice that was so quiet even the Slayers strained to hear it.

"I hinted at this, even indirectly, after Kendra appeared on the map, and they all but laughed me out of the room." It didn't seem possible for a person's voice to simultaneously grow quieter and angrier, but that was what was happening. "Said that was just my ill-spent youth talking. Said it was being a bloody squib getting the better of me."

This was clearly not the reaction that Hermione had expected. Buffy and Willow were clearly floored by this as well.

"But Giles, you've always said that the Council-" Willow started

"The Council couldn't find it's collective arse with both hands and a flashlight," Giles said dully. "I've always thought that some of their policies were archaic, if not downright dangerous. But I never expected this."

"You honestly didn't know?" Buffy demanded, her tone softer than before.

"There's no way to apologize for this kind of negligence," Giles took a deep breath. "I've been completely compromised in training you from the very beginning. The only action I can take is to resign from the Council, effective immediately."

"No, no, you can't," Willow exclaimed. "Buffy and Faith need your help. I mean, doesn't this mean that they have a whole new power source to tap into? Who's going to help them with that?"

"Less than a month ago, Buffy and I had a conversation about trust and respect for the job I do," Giles spoke with assurance. "Trust goes both ways. I have been derelict in my duties, especially in regard to the Slayer's life. I owe Buffy and Faith that much, if nothing else."

Harry knew that Hermione had been planning to drop a bomb, but he was pretty certain that she hadn't tried to play out the ramifications. Why should she? She'd spent much of her life taking the right position and not being listened to because of it. Now the consequences were unfolding, and it couldn't have come at a worse time, for them and the Slayers.

Now the applecart was upset, and they were going to be far less inclined to help.

"You didn't think that this could've waited, maybe a little longer?" Ron whispered to Hermione. "There has to have been a better time."

"And it would've better to wait a few days, and then say, 'oh, by the way, you've had this extra power the whole time that has been kept from you?'" Hermione didn't bother to whisper. "There was never going to be a bloody good time to drop this. Here, at least, they can deal with it now."

"You call this dealing?" Ron decided to not to bother keeping his voice down either.

Harry decided to intervene before they had a separate argument. "Look, we realize that this is a lot to lay on you-"

"Oh, no," Buffy seemed to have recovered from this particular revelation really fast. "You don't get to drop a bomb of this magnitude, and then just steal away into the night. I'm kind of getting sick of that happening."

"We weren't planning on that," Hermione replied. "Look, I'm sorry for-"

"- calling Giles a liar and a tool, and basically saying that Buffy and Faith have just become the Wonder twins?" Xander was starting to look a little wound up himself. "Hallmark doesn't write a card for that kind of apology."

"We'll deal with the 'I'm sorry's' later," Faith retorted. "Explain how exactly we tap into this magical power we've got."

Any surety that Hermione had kept after her confrontation with Giles was gone. "I'm not exactly sure how you would do that," she admitted. "Some kind of testing would probably have to be done, and we have only the barest of qualifications to do it."

"You just told us that your Ministry's under the control of this Voldemort guy. Ditto your high school." Buffy replied. "Where am I supposed to get training? Magic by Mail?"

"We might be able to help with that," Everybody looked at Ron. "What the hell have we doing the last three months? For all intents and purposes, we are practicing wizards. We may not be the most qualified, but we don't need a damn test to say that we are."

There was logic to this argument. What else had the years of training in Dumbledore's army been for? Harry looked at Hermione, then turned back to Buffy and Faith. "Mr. Giles, " he said slowly. "I understand why you feel you have to quit, but right now I think that's the last thing anybody needs."

"This isn't just some empty gesture," Giles responded wearily. "I have no intention of abandoning Buffy at this juncture, but I can't in good conscience work with an organization that has none."

"My father may think that the Ministry's policies are dangerous, and that some of the people are untrustworthy, but he still works there," Ron swallowed. "God knows he might be safer elsewhere, but he knows he's needed. I don't think Buffy or Faith can afford the same kind of problems, particularly now."

Giles looked at Buffy. "I'll understand if you don't wish to keep working with me," he began.

"Stop," Buffy said. "I still need you, Giles. Right now, I feel like taking the first flight to London, and punching quite a few of these Watchers in their hard-to-reach places. But based on what our new friends from England just told us, I'd be better served staying away, at least until we figure out how to handle this evil wizard with the Hitler complex."

"And how exactly are we going to do that?" Xander asked. "According to what they just told us, in order to destroy him, we need to find the rest of these Horcruxes. You still haven't figured out how to do that, or how to even destroy the one you have. That puts you at, what, square minus one?"

How foolish they had been to think that all their problems would be solved now that they were in Sunnydale. Still, at least they had a place to begin.

"What if we were to think of it in terns of a trade?" Harry replied. "The three of us help train Buffy and Faith, the beginners course in realizing whatever magical abilities they have. In exchange, you help us locate the remaining Horcruxes and destroy them."

"And how exactly do you suggest that we find them?" Buffy replied. "I'm betting that they don't glow when you pick them up."

"Maybe." Harry then told them what information they had managed to find about the magical artifacts that had been unearthed a few months earlier, wisely not revealing when exactly Dumbledore had learned of their existence. He didn't want to risk making Buffy any angrier than she already might be.

"How sure are you that these have anything to do with these Horcruxes?" Buffy asked.

"Dumbledore went to an awful lot of trouble to make sure that they were kept secret from everybody but us," Harry replied.

"And this locket that you've been carrying- you've no idea how to destroy it?" Giles asked.

"We don't even know how to bloody open the damn thing," Ron admitted.

"I want to see it," Faith demanded.

Now they were at the point where trust warred with caution. None of them thought the locket was dangerous, but just handing it over after the last three months carrying it seemed a bit foolish. "I'm not sure that's the best idea," Harry began.

"Is the goddamn thing radioactive?" Faith seemed to be getting more irritated, which was the last thing you should do to a Slayer. "I'm not going to accessorize with it!"

They had lost a fair amount of credit with these people; this might be their best chance to get it back. Harry reached for their cases, and very gingerly removed the locket. Faith walked over to them, considered it, then snatched it up.

"Now she's taking gifts from strangers," Xander muttered. "She clearly didn't go to third grade either."

Even knowing how strong the Slayer was, Harry didn't think for a moment she was going to get it open. Which is why it came as a huge surprise, when after less than a minute of trying to unhinge the thing as if she were opening a jar of pickles with a particularly immovable lid, the sides began to very gently part from each other.

"Um, Faith, maybe you'd better be a bit careful," Willow said gently.

"It's a locket, not a bo-" Faith had gotten extremely quiet. A very small green glow was beginning to emit from inside.

In a moment of horror, Harry remembered what Tom Riddle's diary had done to Ginny just due to her holding on to it. "Put it down, Faith." Without his even being aware of it, his wand had come into his hand.

"Almost got it." The green aura was now starting to swallow her face.

"Expelliarmus!" Harry shouted.

No human should've been able to dodge that spell, but somehow Faith managed to toss the locket away a split instant before the spell hit her. The locket went flying into one corner of the library; Faith flew into the other.

Harry and Buffy ran after Faith. Even though he was closer to Faith, Buffy still beat him by a few seconds, without even breathing hard.

"What the hell were you thinking?" Harry didn't know who Buffy was shouting at, and it didn't really matter, because she instantly began trying to rouse her fellow slayer.

She didn't have to try that hard. A couple of seconds later, Faith wearily began to sit up. She shrugged off Buffy's ok's and looked Harry dead in the eye. "Yog-sottoth rules," she mumbled in an off-key voice.

Buffy grabbed Harry by the lapels, and nearly lifted him to the next wall. "What have you done?"

"Hey, B," Faith was now speaking in a normal, albeit exhausted voice. "Made you...look."

It was almost comical how quickly she let go of him. He hit the floor to see that Hermione and Ron still had their wands out.

"Where'd it go?" Harry asked. Hermione gestured towards the corner of the room. Xander and Willow were about ten feet away, and Willow was using a very long stick to try and pick it up from a distance.

'What the hell is in that thing?" Ron demanded.

"Clearly, none of you wizards have seen _Pulp Fiction," _Xander replied. "I'm willing to bet whatever was in that suitcase is exactly what's in that locket."

While they were trying to fathom that particular response, Willow finally grasped the chain with her stick. Harry momentarily reconsidered taking it back, but only for a second.

"I think that it's a two person job," Hermione replied. "One of the Slayers needs to get the locket open, so that we can use the right kind of magic."

"And how long do you think that's going to take?" Buffy asked, making sure Faith had found her feet. "You've spent the last three months trying to find the right spell. What makes you so sure that you can find it now?"

"These Horcruxes are essentially pieces of Voldemort's soul," Giles replied. "I believe that in the writings of Crowley's Necrominion are passages devoted to just this very problem."

Hermione looked very troubled. "That's darker magic than most wizards ever learn," she said worriedly.

"Dark magic is what is being used to split a person's soul into seven pieces," Giles pointed out. "You may not like it, but we may have to go to dark places in order to have a chance at defeating Voldemort."

Harry didn't much care for this idea - it seemed to go against everything that Dumbledore had ever taught him, and against how he'd managed to destroy the diary. If only he knew how his mentor had planned to destroy the others. "Do you have access to these materials?" he asked Giles.

The Watcher nodded. "I keep some of the darker materials behind the cage," he told them.

"Then I don't think we have much of a choice," Harry replied to Hermione.

"This professor of yours- Bumblebore, he have any idea where these other relics were?"

Harry realized he'd barely known Buffy four hours, and he was starting to get used to her mangling of mystical names. "The only one that he talked about was a collection of goblets that had recently come into the possession of someone at one of your museums."

"Museum," Willow corrected. "There isn't a whole lot of town in Sunnydale."

"How recent was this?" Buffy asked.

"Seven months ago. God knows what's happened to them by now."

"Unless, of course, there was this wondrous device that enabled you to see the complete cultural calendar and stock of magic materials," Buffy replied. "Oh, that's right, there is. Willow?"

The three wizards all seemed a little blank, even after Willow went over to a small grey rectangle case, opened it, and began to type into it.

"So you've studied every aspect of magical life, but you've never used the Internet?" Xander asked as they considered this. "Man, and I thought that my childhood was rough."

"There are a lot of great things about being a wizard," Ron argued.

"Yeah; things are a lot nicer in the twentieth century," Faith countered. "You keep your womenfolk barefoot and knocked up, too?"

Harry didn't think that Hermione would stand for this kind of talk, so he turned to his friend, only to find that she seemed to be paralyzed, with her gaze fixed to the entrance. "What's the prob-"

Then he turned around and saw what she had seen. It wasn't quite as bad as seeing Voldemort or Bellatrix Lestrange, but in it's own way, it was equally frightening- like seeing a storybook picture come to life.

Angelus was standing in the entryway.


	9. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

In retrospect, Harry should've realized that something was up when none of the others seemed remotely concerned about how one of the most dangerous vampires in existence was standing not ten feet away from two Slayers. But when you see someone you were told was one of the biggest boogeyman in the world, you react first.

He lifted his wand, and yelled 'incendi-"

Harry never got a chance to finish, because Buffy, moving with agility of a cobra, slammed into him, landing him on the floor for the second time in less than five minutes. Under other circumstance, it would have been laughable.

"What the bloody hell's wrong with you?" Ron shouted.

"Don't you know who that is?" Buffy shouted.

Ron decided not to answer, choosing to fire on Angelus. Again, he never got a chance to finish, because Willow ran right into him. Even though she was only a Muggle, she was enough of a problem, and he nearly lost hold of his wand.

"Know him?" Ron snarled. "I wrote a goddamn essay on him! That's the Scourge of Europe! He's killed thousands!"

It was Harry noticed something strange: Angelus had done nothing to dodge either blast of energy, nor had he made any effort to try and kill anybody else. "What the hell's going on?" he demanded.

"I just spent the better part of my Christmas saving him from destroying himself," Buffy told them. "I am not letting you take Angel out!"

Hermione still hadn't moved. She looked like she was trying to remember how to make a particularly difficult potion. "Why would you want to save him at all?" she demanded. "Why'd you call him Angel?"

"That's the name he's had, ever since he got his soul back," Buffy replied.

Harry wasn't sure he'd heard right. Everything they knew about vampires what that they were soulless demons- it said so in every book on the subject. He knew that a soul was important, but could it be enough to make a difference in a monster with such a track record?

Ron didn't think so. "Oh, I see. Well, then he should get a refund, because it was clearly wasted on him," By now, he had managed to shove Willow aside. "Did he have a soul when he brought the Judge back? Or murdered Jenny Calendar? Or tried to summon Acathla?"

Harry noticed something else. Willow and Buffy seemed very concerned about stopping him. Faith seemed mildly annoyed, but was taking no action, and Xander and Giles hadn't moved an inch since this conflict had started.

"Hell, I always knew Deadboy had a reputation, but you- you've got world wide status, man," Xander finally remarked "They put it like that, I'm starting to think they might have a point!"

"We didn't go through all this just to have them kill him," Buffy demanded. "Why the hell did you think it snowed?"

This seemed completely out of nowhere, but it was enough of a distraction for Ron to drop his guard. Willow tackled him again, and this time managed to get his wand from him. "Little help," she demanded.

Hermione decided to take advantage of the chaos, and walked right up to Angelus. Had he chosen the vampire could've broken her neck without a thought, but he still hadn't moved. "You have one minute to explain why I shouldn't turn in you into a pile of ash," she demanded.

Finally, they got a reaction out of the vampire. "Maybe you should," he said simply.

Buffy didn't drop Harry, but it was clear that she'd been blindsided yet again. "Angel, no,"

"I've killed thousands of people Buffy, I've drunk the blood of dozens of wizards," Angel replied. "These people know what I've done better than anyone else. I don't know why I came back, why I'm here, and if I can't justify it to myself, how can I possibly do it to strangers?"

Buffy put Harry on the ground. She didn't even bother to warn him this time; just ran straight to Angel. "Somebody up their just sent a message that your life is worth something. How many miracles is it going to take before-"

Finally, Hermione seemed to get the solution in her head that she needed. "Are you telling me that the cold front that hit only Sunnydale two days ago was there only to save Angelus? That particular weather front was basically sent down to keep a vampire who has been nothing but a monster for centuries from killing himself?"

There was a long pause. It was clear that whatever had happened on Christmas had not been analyzed very thoroughly by the Slayer and her friends. Faith considered this and added: "I saw it and I still don't believe it."

"Not helping!" Buffy shouted.

"Why should she?" Xander demanded. "You're not exactly putting up a banner case for the defense. Or does being your boyfriend still trump all other rules?"

Every time Harry felt he'd reached his limit on how shocked he could get by these people, they kept upping the ante. Ron looked like he'd just learned that Buffy was Snape's illegitimate child. Hermione's expression, however, hadn't changed an iota.

"I think that's it time you did some explaining," she told them. "And it had better be a damn good reason."

For a long moment, it seemed as if Buffy was reconsidering taking on the whole bunch of them. Then she started talking.

Most of the story they already knew second hand. But apparently the Prophet had completely missed out on some events that had taken place a century earlier. After feeding on one of their, a Gypsy had cursed Angelus with a soul. He'd spent the last century in seclusion, trying to hide from the horrors he had enacted. Then he'd came to Sunnydale, in an effort to atone. He had tried to prove he was worthy by killing his sire. Harry actually went a little cold hearing how he managed to dispatch the second part of their history homework.

It was when he began telling him what happened last year that Harry began to have his doubts about what he was hearing. He knew that the Gypsies were not classically trained wizards by any means, but this was a hole that could be seen from a mile up.

He wasn't alone. "One moment of true happiness, and the curse is removed," Hermione replied. "Only someone incompetent or untrained would cast a curse of this magnitude with that big a loophole."

"You do the things that I've done for as long as I've done, you're not going to feel good about yourself," Angelus replied.

"I have known some Death Eaters who have managed to work around those particular problems," Harry told them. "And as far as I know, they don't have the excuse of having a demon taking over their body."

"So what are you saying, you don't believe what happened?" Buffy replied. "Writing off this whole curse as just shoddy work?"

"I am saying that for a century, you went through existence feeling the burden of all this guilt," Harry replied. "What changed to turn to back to who you are?"

For the first time, Buffy seemed genuinely ashamed. "It was my fault," she told them. "We fell in love."

"We got that much," Ron clearly still wasn't buying this. "What I don't get is how this leads from him turning-"

"They had sex!" Xander finally interjected. "And then he screws us!" The young man was beginning to sound as angry as the rest of them. "It's not enough that he tries to destroy the world the morning after. No, the two of them have to spend the rest of the semester dancing around each other. You knew he was a soulless monster, and you still couldn't just kill him and be done with it. No, he has to kill Miss Calendar, and God knows how many other people, before she finally gets up the balls to do it!"

"Xander, so help me," Buffy started.

"What, you're telling me you, of all people, can't handle the truth?" Xander replied. "The Powers may have decided he's worth saving. Far as I'm concerned, the jury handed in its verdict a long time ago. " He gestured towards the three of them. "The magical world clearly seems to think so. And, not for nothing, he's supposed to have his ear to the ground when it comes to big monster. How come you didn't know that Voldemort was back in power? Slip your mind?"

"Enough!" Buffy looked like she was going to start whaling on somebody.

Harry tended to agree with Xander on this, but he didn't want to get into a fistfight with a Slayer. "So how does this end?" he asked Buffy. "How do you go back from being mortal enemies to wanted to save this son of a bitch?'

"He has his soul back, " Willow replied. "That was Jenny's last wish: to save Angel. And after everything we went through giving it back to him-"

"Wait," Hermione suddenly looked like she was solving another problem in her head. "How did he get his soul back?"

Willow suddenly looked like she wished she'd kept her mouth shut. "Um, well, you see, after she died, I found the original spell on a disk. When Buffy was fighting Angel, I-"

"Who performed the spell?" Ron suddenly got it, too.

"Um, it was me" The redhead looked like she was about to shrink.

You wouldn't have thought it possible for three people to exchange a glance, but that's what Harry, Ron and Hermione did right then.

"Now what?" Faith demanded.

"The day Acathla was rendered dormant, there was a blast of energy from Sunnydale so strong, it sent ripples throughout the magical world" Hermione told them. "And it happened exactly when Willow cast her spell."

There was a long moment as they all digested this. "So you're telling me, you sensed a disturbance in the force?" Xander replied.

"Not us, but yeah, that's what happened."

"I was kidding," Xander looked genuinely concerned now. "Are you serious?"

Ron looked at Willow. "Are you a practicing witch?"

"No!" Willow responded so quickly that they knew she was lying. "Well, not practicing, I mean, dabbling with the dark arts is super dangerous, I wouldn't really want to infringe on anyone's turf, and I wouldn't have done that spell, unless I really thought I had to-"

"Will," Buffy finally turned her attention from them to her friend. "Breathe."

For a few seconds, it looked as though this might actually be a problem. "But it, but it was only my first spell," Willow continued to stammer. "I mean, I never even considering practicing black magic before then."

"Only a wizard of incredible power could have a spell that strong," Harry replied.

Giles was starting to get a worried look on his face. "But, if Willow had any kind of magical power in her, your people would've sensed it..."

"Not on a Hellmouth," Hermione replied. "Particularly not on one as strong as this.

"So, she's got magical power," Buffy was trying to buoy up her friend. "So do a lot of people. That doesn't make her that strange."

"There is a layer of darkness so deep around a Hellmouth that most magical energy can't penetrate it," Harry recited the explanation. "According to Dumbledore, the day it happened, it was like a searchlight penetrating a fog. He didn't know who you were when it happened, but he knew that only a very strong wizard could've done it."

"How strong?" Giles asked.

"Strong enough to mean the difference in the war," Hermione replied. "And if Voldemort were to find out who did it- and there's no way he couldn't have noticed-"

She didn't finish her sentence, because that was the moment Willow fainted.

Even though Buffy was on the other side of the room, she still managed to get there fast enough to catch her friend, Xander arriving a split second later.

Harry tried to get over to them, but Angel stood in their way. "I think you should leave now," he said, in a voice that was a lot firmer than it had been dealing with them.

"We just wanted to help," Harry told them weakly.

"I'd say you've done enough," Buffy responded icily.

This was not how Harry had wanted this encounter to end, but they seemed to have played this particular hand out Hermione and Ron seemed to realize this, and without any further argument they left the library.

They'd spent a lot longer in the library then Harry had thought; the sun was just begin to appear over the horizon as they began the long walk back to the motel. Harry wasn't sure that this was a good thing; the last hour had left him with the immense desire to blast the hell out of something that couldn't fight back.

None of them felt much like talking; they'd pretty much said all they had to when they were telling their story to Buffy and her friends.

"They're going to help us, right?" Ron finally asked. "They may not have liked what they heard, but they're not going to be so petty that they'd just ignore the whole threat that we're facing."

"They've all got their own battles to fight," Harry said dully. "There are demons trying to end the world on a regular basis. Why would they want to handle a headache halfway around the world?"

"Mainly because there isn't a hell of a lot to keep me here."

Even knowing that Slayers could move quicker and quieter then them, it was still a shock to hear Faith's voice come from out of nowhere. She was on their left, looking a little amused.

"I thought your friends didn't think that much of us," Hermione stated.

"I don't know if you could tell, but we're not exactly sharing all the warm and fuzzy," Faith replied. "They've had to deal with a lot of bullshit over the past few months, and I still feel like a goddamn outsider. I'm guessing you feel the same way. Plus, you guys probably don't know Sunnydale that well. Safety in numbers, or all that shit."

Hermione and Ron exchanged another glance. Harry shrugged. "All right," he told us. "but first you tell us the real reason you're here."

"Fair 'nough," Faith gave a shrug of her own, then looked at Hermione. "Your little speech that all Slayers have magical powers, can you prove it, or were you just talking out of your ass?"

Faith certainly had a directness about her that was refreshing. Hermione decided to be equally direct. "There's probably some kind of definitive test I can use," she told her. "But I think the energy that is being directed in ways that are a lot more subtle than being able to perform spells."

"Like?"

"From what I read, and maybe you can confirm this, it would involve an enhanced mental capacity in order to enable to make the right choices."

"Why does that sound like more bull..." Faith trailed off. "That ability to make the right kind of choices, would that come out, if you were to, say, take a standardized test?"

"I'm not sure I follow," Hermione replied.

"Couple of months ago, everybody took their SAT's, and B, who if she studied one night for it I'd be shocked, got scores so high, she pretty much has her choice of colleges." Faith shrugged. "First, I just figured those tests were screwed. Now I'm beginning to wonder."

Hermione considered this. "What about you? How did you score on the test?"

Faith nearly chuckled. "I dropped out of school two years ago. I haven't sat in a classroom since junior high," she admitted cheerfully. "Now if it was the kind of school you and your friends went to, I'd probably have stuck around." She sobered up. "Still might, if I get a chance.

This wasn't exactly how Harry and his friends had expected to carry the day, but then they hadn't been expecting there to be more than one Slayer either. "Are you saying you really want to do this?" Harry asked.

Faith went still for a moment. "As the Scoobies would be the first to tell you, I've got major issues. Trust isn't something I do, mainly cause the people who offer to help me tend to die or try to fuck me over. I don't think I had as crappy a childhood as Harry, but I bet I could run it a close second. On top of it, you haven't entirely sold me on the fact that some of your wizards are entirely worth saving." She held up a hand. "Hogwarts, yes; the Ministry, no. It goes against almost everything I am to just sign on to this." The dark-haired Slayer took a deep breath. "Which is why I'm going to agree to a trade. You help me figure out this part of me, I'll help you with your problem with Voldemort."

Hermione looked at her. "You do know that Voldemort isn't going to be as simple as a stake through the heart?"

"Granted, I haven't been doing this as long as B, but I get that not every problem can be solved with violence." Faith smiled. "Just the fun ones."

Remus would have definitely liked Faith. There was definitely a bit of a Marauder's spirit to her. Or did she have some kind of attitude about werewolves? Harry was about to ask her, when suddenly, his scar began to tingle. It had been so long that he'd actually felt it that the pain nearly doubled him over.

"Harry? What is it?" Ron was saying, But Harry hardly heard him, as all of a sudden he began to hear a voice-

_"Tom, Tom, the piper's son has stolen the pig. You'll get a beating when you get back."_

_For a moment, Harry thought that he was looking at Bellatrix again. The dark hair and the lilting voice sounded a lot like her, along with the disconnect that was the voice of someone clearly insane. It took a moment for him to realize otherwise. This was the voice of someone much younger - or as Harry would quickly realize, _seemed _younger._

_"It has been a while, hasn't it? A lifetime, it seems."_

_Once again, Voldemort was trying to sound congenial - an effort that the Dark lord just couldn't pull off._

_"Why so nice? You were never nice to me before."_

_"I've always been an admirer of your work. And I like to think I can respect my elders."_

_"What a crock!"_

_A male voice. If the woman had been faintly dismissive of Voldemort, this one didn't even put up the pretense of being polite._

_"You've never had a use for any of us undead unless we were willing to serve you. Come to think of it, wasn't that the real reason that your last little attempt to take over the world went completely to shit, Tommy boy?"_

_The speaker was now visible- a tall young man with hair so yellow it had to have been dyed. He took out a cigarette, and lit it defiantly._

_Once again, someone seemed to be deliberately baiting Voldemort. And just like at Wolfram & Hart, Voldemort just took it "William." _

_"Thomas."_

_"I heard that you and Drusilla had come to a parting of the ways."_

_"And once again, your intel on the ground is sloppy." He blew smoke rings in Voldemort's face. "That's the problem with only using sycophants as your power base. They only tell you what you want to hear, so you only get good news."_

_"I think you doubt the authority I have."_

_"Really? The last time we met, you told me that you had a place for me at your right hand, if I would swear allegiance. I told you to go to hell. Would you like me to remind you why?" William got close enough for Voldemort to rip his head off. "You and your people are idiots. Successful idiots, to be sure, but a moron by any other name. Know why?"_

_"Tread carefully, vampire," Voldemort's tone would have commanded absolute silence in anyone else. William didn't seem to care. _

_"It's a bad idea when cousins marry. Every royal family in the world came to that realization just before their empires went poof. You think you're better cause you got magic. Makes you different. Not better."_

_"I could say the same thing about vampires."_

_"I know." William looked more amused by this critique. "Which is why I don't go sunbathing. Or mention Sherman in Savannah. Or fight against an enemy I can't possibly beat."_

_"We will control the Muggles," Voldemort had gotten quiet again._

_"I hear things. I know the strength of your numbers. You couldn't take over Manchester with your armies. Bloody French could kick your ass. But," he held up a hand. "since you're here, I'm betting you know that."_

_"I could crush you with a thought."_

_Now William's face changed. "Idle threats never suited you, Tom. So, having completed the pleasantries, why are you here?"_

_Voldemort looked at him. "Drusilla possesses great power. I heard tell that she knew the prophecy a scant hour after it was in the Department of Mysteries."_

_Drusilla, who had been watching these proceedings with the interest of a spectator watching a Quidditch match, finally spoke up. "The stars have sung about me about the boy. Much power within his grasp."_

_William looked at her with what appeared to be genuine love. "Easy Dru, let's hear the deal before we tell him everything." He turned back to Voldemort. "This is a toll bridge, sport. You want our help, you pay upfront"_

_"What do you require?"_

_"Think you already know the only thing I want." He bore his fangs. "And if you give it to me, I think we could have ourselves a gay, old time."_

Harry? Harry?"

All of a sudden, three very worried faces were looking down at him.

Harry managed to get to his feet, waiting for the questions that came twenty seconds later.

"I thought you'd stopped having these flashes," Hermione replied.

"I had. This is the first one in awhile," Harry said honestly. "Not even as bad as usual." He still had a headache, but in comparison to his earlier flashes, this one just didn't have the same bite.

"Now that you're better, would you mind telling me what the fuck you saw?" Faith replied.

Hermione and Ron shot her a dirty look. Strangely enough, Harry didn't mind. Even his friends had (gently, of course) always wanted to know what the Dark Lord was trying to o next, or advise him to try and protect himself. Faith was the first person who thought that what was happening might be useful.

"I think Voldemort just had a meeting with the other half of Remus' homework assignment," Harry replied. Hermione and Ron instantly got it. Faith clearly needed clarification. "Voldemort was meeting with Drusilla and Spike."

Faith's eyes almost bugged out. "Talk about your meeting of the sick and twisted minds," she told them. "I'm guessing that since you know all the shit Angel was up to, you've got a good idea what those two crazy kids were up to last year."

"Pretty much," Hermione agreed. "Except how the two of the managed to get in a fight with Buffy and live to see another day."

Faith thought this over. "Way B tells it, Spike was never really sold on bringing back Acathla. That, and he was going through some major out with Drusilla after Angel lost his soul. Basically agreed to sell out Angelus to B in exchange for walking away. Then he basically ran out on both of them. Gave them an extra reason to take him out next them they saw him."

This was news to the three of them. Unfortunately, Faith said she'd been stalking a nest on the outskirts of town, and had pretty much missed Spike's two-day 'return' to Sunnydale little more than a month ago. The one thing she had been absolutely sure of, though, was that Spike had been on the outs with Drusilla, and considering the journals had them together pretty much every day for the last century, this was a big deal.

"Well, if he and Dru are all chummy again, the lovebirds have obviously worked through their problems," Faith told them. "You have any idea where the three of them were having this evil meet and greet?"

"Not a clue," Harry admitted. "But the last time I got a message like this, Voldemort was looking for them in Brazil. Maybe they're even closer."

"Nah, that's basically what Red said he told her while she was being held hostage by him."

"Is this kind of behavior typical of _every _vampire who takes up residence on the Hellmouth?" Ron asked, a little astounded. "Are things that bad that they can pretty much talk a victim to death?"

Faith decided not to answer this. "Voldemort, do you think the two of them knew each other before this?"

"Yeah, they'd met before. He pretty much told Voldemort he was a glorified idiot with delusions of grandeur."

Faith's eyebrows went up. "I knew the vamp has brass ones; I just didn't think they were that big. Why the hell didn't Voldemort rip him in half?"

"I don't know," Hermione replied. "But according to the last vision Harry got before this one, it isn't the first time this happened." She then filled Faith in on the meeting Voldemort had attended with Wolfram & Hart. "I'd like to say this shows us he has a weak spot, but I don't think these are people we should have on our side."

"Why is Voldy going to see Drusilla in the first place? Computer dating?" Faith demanded.

"Based on what I saw, and what I remember from my assignment, Drusilla had some kind of psychic ability," Harry told them "There must be something our future that she can see that Voldemort wants to get his hands on."

"There aren't better sources in the magic world?" Faith asked doubtfully. "Saner ones?"

"Voldemort likes dealing with the mentally unstable," Ron told them.

"Including ones who kill vampire slayers with a flick of the wrist?" Faith managed to say this with a level tone, but she clearly looked a little unsettled.

"She murdered your predecessor," Harry replied. " If he knew that Voldemort would probably consider it a bonus."

"Whatever his next step, it has to involve Sunnydale in some way," Hermione reasoned. "You don't pick up two of the most dangerous vampires in existence - who've killed three Slayers between them- and not use them for this."

"Shit," Faith muttered. "As if we didn't have enough problems already." She wavered for a moment, then plunged ahead. "How long would it take your Dark Lord to get people here? You said something about the Hellmouth making getting here difficult."

"It took us two months to get here, and we had to take the bus the rest of the way," Ron told them. "I'm guessing Voldemort won't be nearly as subtle."

"Do you think he's chasing us?" Hermione asked Harry.

"No, but I'm sure finding us would just be an added bonus," Harry replied. "Faith, Buffy and the rest of your friends need to hear this."

"Right now, I don't think Giles and B would be inclined to piss on you if you were on fire," Faith replied. "You gotta give 'em some time to get through this. Better to come back tomorrow."

"They can process that fast?" Ron asked doubtfully.

"On a Hellmouth, you pretty much have to react fast or you end up dead. Even the life-changing news you gotta process fast."

"That why Buffy ended up being a waitress in LA this summer?" Harry asked. He hadn't meant in as an accusation.

"In roughly twelve hours, she was accused of murder, expelled, thrown out of her house by her Mom, and had to send Angel to hell to stop the apocalypse," Faith apparently took it that way. "I'm amazed she ever came back, considering how fucked up her life was."

It took them a few moments for that last bit to sink in, and when it did, Ron took it the wrong way. "If he went to hell, how'd he get back? Wouldn't they want him there?'

"He doesn't know, either," Faith asked. She didn't seem willing to give Angel the benefit of the doubt. "Either some great evil power wanted him to kill Buffy, or some higher power wanted him to fight for good. Pick your poison. Long story short, you're not going to get anywhere knocking B's boyfriend."

Harry didn't like this at all, but Faith's idea about taking some time to absorb this didn't seem to be the worst idea for them, either. "Where exactly do you live?" he asked gingerly.

"Broken Arms Motel. Bed sucks, but I can hear my neighbor fuck through the walls," According to Faith, it was about three blocks away from where Harry and his friends were staying.

"So you can't afford better accommodations either?" Hermione replied.

Ron took it a different way. "They must not think much of you to let you live there," he replied.

For the first time, Faith actually appeared a little sad "I've heard some stories. 'Cept for Buffy's mom, most of the parents in this town could give a rat's ass whether their kids live or die. Not sure I'd be much better off."

"Well, we might as well as get back," Ron replied. "We've been up for nearly twenty-four hours; we don't get some rest, we're not be any good to anybody."

Harry had an idea that Faith might be able to hold up on her own - she had to be keeping later hours then them, and looked like she was ready to go ten rounds with Fenrir Greyback- but she didn't put up any objections. He had an idea that whole processing thing might apply to her as well.

It wasn't until they had gotten back to their various motels that Faith revealed just how deeply concerned she was.

"This little psychic connection that you share with Voldy," she began. "You sure it doesn't go both ways?"

"I haven't exactly had much of a chance to ask him," he told her. "But if it did, I'm pretty sure we'd know about it. He'd have sent someone to the states by now"

"There's been no evidence of it in the past," Hermione added.

"I'm not sure how reassuring to find that, " Faith told them. "Besides, I don't care if you've been fucking invisible the last two months. His reach is as long as you think it is, he's got to have eyes on the Hellmouth _somewhere._"

The truth was, this had been worrying Harry for months. Ever since their encounter with Bellatrix, they'd seen neither hide nor hair of anybody who even looked like a Death Eater. But they had left a trail while they'd been in the states, and he was positive that Voldemort hadn't given up searching for them. Hell, for all he knew, he might use suspicions that they were in America to justified going in after them full force. And Harry didn't care how relatively small the Dark Lord's force were; they would be dangerous.

Harry thought that he'd kept his expression completely blank, but some of it must have leaked through, because Faith put her hand on his shoulder.

"Rule one of living on a Hellmouth, HP," she told him. "You don't go around carrying the world on your shoulders. Not in a town with two Slayers in it. Case you haven't noticed, we can handle a lot of weight."

Harry so wanted to believe her.. God knew she had demonstrated a lot of ability saving their lives. But being able to out-punch and out-kick creatures of darkness might not be enough against a battalion of Death Eaters, even if she had the added power of a full-grown wizard.

"Man, you're another one of those broody types, aren't you?" Faith asked. "Let me put it in a way you'll understand. We're going to destroy these Horcruxes, then we're going to face Voldemort, and kick his ass into next week."

At this, Harry found a smile crossing his face. The Slayer just seemed to radiate confidence and self-assuredness that it was hard to imagine her not winning any battle.

He turned to Faith, only to find that she had already left his side, and was returning to her motel.

"No one can say she lacks confidence," Ron replied before turning to Hermione. "Please tell me that you have some idea on how to basically cram seven years of magical training in a week. Especially since we're probably not going to be able to find her a wand."

"That much, no," Hermione admitted. "Enough to make her an even more formidable force against what's coming- I've got a few ideas. Get inside, and we can start figuring them out."

By the time they were inside and had reapplied the Mufflato charms, they wouldn't have heard a sound. Faith did hear a sound faintly resembling a balloon popping, but thought little of it.

None of them knew that this was the first sign of the battle that was going.


	10. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

As important it was for them to figure out how to train Faith, it had been a very long twenty-four hours, and they needed rest if they were going to be any good to anyone. Hermione tried to raise some objections, but even she was running on empty. They all but collapsed a few minutes later.

They managed to regain consciousness around noon, and then decided to face the issue, starting with what kind of magic either of the Slayers might be able to use. Not surprisingly, Hermione revealed that she had spent some of her time in Los Angeles trying to learn what she could about this.

"You're not going to tell me there were books on this subject?" Ron asked doubtfully.

Hermione shook her head. "Honestly, I thought that someone might have at least postulated the idea before I came up with it, and there were some books talking about it theoretically, but none of them really thought it was even possible." She tried to smile, but it looked a lot like a grimace. "Looks like we're going to be pioneers in this particular field."

"So how do we even begin with Faith? I don't think there's a wand maker in Sunnydale," Harry asked.

"We may not even have to go that far." Hermione saw the surprise in their eyes. "Bearing in mind that this is mostly conjecture right now, I believe the kind of magic that a Slayer has is tied to a different kind then the one we've been trained in."

This wasn't a complete shock to either of them. One thing that they had learned in LA was that there was a different branch of magic practiced in America. The practice of Wicca, or wandless magic as it was referred to by some wizards, was more dangerous then what they'd been taught at Hogwarts. Only the most trained experts were taught this kind of magic in European schools. Practitioners of it had immigrated to the colonies in the sixteenth century, and despite the hunts for them in New England (which caused many wizarding families to go underground for centuries) it still had a major foothold. Some of the wizarding community in America considered their kinds of magic quaint.

"So you think that this is Wicca?" Ron asked.

Hermione shook her head, then hesitated. "It's closer to earth magic then anything else," she told them. "It's the only way that a Slayer would have such great recuperative powers. That said, there's also got to be a level of blood in it- you can't have the kind of strength and power a Slayer does without some severe darkness."

"If that's the case, how would we help her tap into it?" Harry asked. "We don't know anything about this kind of magic."

Hermione walked over to their supplies, and removed a small book that neither had seen before. "About a week ago, I went on a side trip near Beverly Hills," she told them. "One of the older magic shops in the country is disguised as a boutique there. I had to spend a fair amount of money to get a copy. But I think that it's worth it."

Harry looked at the title. "Wicca for Dummies?" he read doubtfully.

"Considering that we're basically in uncharted waters, that's not that far from where we are in this field," Hermione reminded them. "But it has enough spells in here to help us start training Faith in what she'll need to know."

Someone knocked. Understandably, this made everyone a bit edgy, considering that no one from the Slayers camp aside from Faith knew where they were staying.

They were even more surprised to see who was there. For a moment, they considered not opening the door, but they needed to talk to her regardless of the circumstances.

"How did you know where to find us?" Harry said, without inviting her in.

"Um, I've been working on these tracking spells for the past couple of months with a couple of acquaintances," Willow told them carefully. "It can be used to find traces of magical energy. An hour ago, I used it to follow you, with, um the help of my boyfriend."

Harry looked across the way. A van with the words 'Dingoes Ate My Baby' scrawled on the side was parked nearby, and a teenager with reddish-brown hair was staring at them.

"He wasn't wild about any of this, but he loves me," Willow said simply. "Anyway, could you come out here? Please?"

It was the 'please' that convinced Harry she wasn't screwing with them - Willow was trying to appear stoic, but that last word was practically a squeak. He went outside with Hermione and Ron a few steps behind them. "What do you want?"

"Here's the thing," she said slowly. "For the last few months, magic's been more a hobby than anything useful. I've been trying to cast a few levitation spells, maybe a ball of fire or two, and I've, I've been getting nowhere with it. Made me feel like I was wasting my time."

She took a breath, clearly unsettled. "But when I cast the spell to restore Angel's soul, I felt something go through me. Something very un-Willowish. And when it happened, Oz," she looked at her boyfriend, "he thought I was possessed."

Harry didn't know nearly as much about this kind of magic as anyone else in the Order, but he knew enough from his personal studies with Hermione that to cast a spell of this level wouldn't be easy for a wizard, much less a Muggle who had never been within shouting distance of a magical school. In its own way, this was as disturbing as learning that Buffy was in a relationship with Angelus.

Ron looked bothered by this too, and turned to Hermione. "This couldn't be some kind of residual force spilling out from the Hellmouth, could it?" he asked.

Hermione considered this for a couple of moments, then finally shook her head. "A Hellmouth is capable of doing many things, but it can't put magic into somebody who didn't already have access to it already," she said warily. "Not for a spell of this magnitude."

Willow didn't look happy to hear this. It was hard to tell because his expression didn't change, but neither did Oz.

"But, but last night you said magic could only come from wizarding families," There was now desperation in her voice.

Hermione softened her tone. "My parents are both dentists," she said gently. "Harry's mother was a wizard. His aunt wasn't. This war is all about protecting people just like you."

This actually managed to cause Willow to steady a little. "The last time there was a war to protect people like me, millions of people died. Some of them were members of my family. And the man responsible for it was someone so evil he made your Dark Lord look like Santa Claus." She looked at them. "How close is this monster to winning?"

For a moment Harry considered telling Willow everything he had learned from the visions he had about the suspected numbers of the wizarding populace. What stopped him was not any desire to mislead anybody who was a friend of either Slayer - they could probably recognize a legitimate threat better than anyone, and this was incredibly dangerous. Instead, he decided to try telling something close to the truth.

"I don't think that Voldemort will be showing up on your doorstep before you finish high school," he told her. "Honestly, we've no idea how large his forces are right now. But the last time, he came incredibly close to victory, and his followers were willing to wait over a decade for him to resurface. He is more than capable to taking the long view. Which is why we have to find that Horcrux. Without them, despite whatever help we get from Buffy or Faith or you, I don't think anything else matters."

This clearly took Ron aback. "Then what the hell did we bloody come here for?" he demanded.

"I'd kinda like an answer, too."

Harry had been trained by some of the best wizards in the world about keeping himself protected. Nevertheless, he hadn't heard Faith approach, as she tapped on his shoulder. "You do know that kind of approach is dangerous, especially given a wizard?"

Faith managed to give a smile that somehow managed to display 'come hither' and 'look out!" simultaneously. "You wizards, your bones break, right?" she asked.

"We can heal them almost overnight," Hermione brought up quickly.

"Yeah, I still I think, comes to a showdown between you and me, I'd be five by five," Faith looked at Harry. "You still haven't answered Ron's question."

Perhaps not surprisingly, Hermione took the initiative. "It's possible that we may have come here for more reasons then just getting the Horcrux," she pointed out. "We may even know where Voldemort is right now."

"Well, that's great," Willow then caught their expression. "Um, maybe not so great?"

"Not so great," Faith then told them about Harry's vision the previous night. This finally proved a reaction from Oz.

"Not again," he said quietly.

Willow looked even more disturbed. "Do you have any idea where they are right now?"

"No," Harry replied. "I'm not even sure what it would take for Spike and Drusilla to come back to a place where, according to Faith, he got his ass seriously kicked twice."

"Give you three guesses, and the first two don't count," Faith replied grimly. "Here's a hint. It involves B's head."

That was not an image Harry wanted, but he had to admit it would definitely qualify. Willow was clearly bothered by it as well. "You have any idea how far away they were?"

"Could be anywhere in this continent," Harry admitted. "But even if he did, he wouldn't be able to get here overnight."

"Probably not."

Everybody who had been engaged in this conversation was experienced enough not to react when something bad happened. Nonetheless, they were all very disturbed when this new, ominous voice began to speak, as none of them could tell where it was coming from.

"Of course, you make the foolish assumption that our Lord would be stupid enough to completely ignore one of the biggest areas of magical power on the planet."

A man in a black robe suddenly appeared less than twenty feet away from them. A split second later, so did four similarly dressed wizards. Harry was pretty sure they had just run into part of the American contingent of the Death Eaters.

If their appearance was meant to inspire shock and awe, they had to be disappointed. Harry and his friends didn't react. Faith tensed up the slightest bit - that was all. Oz's expression barely changed.

Willow, on the other hand, started to look panicky. It took a couple of seconds for Harry to realize that it wasn't the five wizards that were unnerving her, but rather the three large creatures that were emerging from the shadows beyond them.

"When we heard that the Boy Who Lived was here, we thought that he had to be trailing us,." The speaker was tall and lanky, and looked to be barely older than them. "You'd have to be insane to try and look for help on a Hellmouth."

Harry was trying to find a way to unobtrusively reach for his wand. Faith, however, made no pretense at subtlety. "I'm going to give you until the count of three," she told the evil entourage. "After that, you're going to make me do something I'd probably enjoy doing anyway."

Three of the wizards burst into laughter. One of the demons, however, looked a tad uneasy.

"You've made a major miscalculation here," the wizard said.

"No, you have," Faith barely moved a muscle. "One."

"Leave Potter alive. Kill the rest."

"Two,"

"Impudent Muggle."

The next several minutes were incredibly hectic and went by in a rush for everybody, but they all very clearly remembered what happened next. The wizard who had spoken started to draw his wand. While his hand was going to his side, Faith started running. Halfway there, she leapt into the air. "Avrada Ked-"

The would-be spell caster never finished the Killing Curse, because Faith kicked him in the stomach, and knocked him on his ass. His wand fell to the ground.

"You should have waited 'til I said three, motherfucker," Faith told him. Before the others could react, she grabbed his wand and snapped it in two.

For a moment, everyone seemed paralyzed. Even within the wizarding world, there were certain codes. Breaking a wizard's wand was something that just wasn't done - even among the Death Eaters. Harry wasn't sure which amazed him more - what Faith had done or the utter disregard she had done it with.

Hermione seemed to recover first. "No matter what," she whispered to Willow, "stay behind us."

The demon closest to Faith - a gray-skinned one with what appeared to be wooden spikes at the ends of his arms- leapt at her. She whirled around and kicked at it., even as the next wizard cast the Crucio spell on her simultaneously. Harry knew firsthand just how painful they could be, and it seemed that the combo would get to her. He cast a Stupefy spell which pushed the nearest of the wizards back.

Faith stumbled a little. Two of the demons attempted to crush her using their bulk alone. The dark-haired Slayer responded by leaping in mid air, and kicking both in the head.

At this point, the larger group of wizards scattered, apparently having realized just how formidable an adversary Faith was. It didn't, however, discourage them from their attack. Two of the wizards tried to cast a Killing Curse on Willow, but Hermione threw Willow aside by casting a Reflecting Spell. However, neither of the wizards remained stationary long enough for it to damage them.

That was done by Faith, who delivered a spinning kick that was formidable enough to knock another of the wizards to the ground. This time, they held on to their wands, and waited for long enough for the second demon - this one, screaming yellow with a distinctly reptilian appearance - to knock Faith to the ground. Suddenly, he was carrying two steel pikes in each hand, and attempted to drive them into her stomach.

"No!" Not even sure if it would work, Harry called forth a bolt of lightning from his wand which hit it right in the guts. The crackling of the electricity could still be heard in the air, when Faith responded to this by scissor-kicking the beast in the neck.

By now the wizards seem to have focused on the Slayer as the bigger problem. One of them tried to cast the Imperium spell, but before she could get the last syllable out, Ron had thrown an exploding charm at her, and the force of the blast knocked the wand out of her hand. Before she could grab it again, Willow snatched it off the ground, and trained it on her.

This didn't fill the wizard with fear - she looked like she was going to double over laughing. "What do you think you're going to do?" she managed to gasp out. "You going try and pull a rabbit out of your hat?"

Keeping up her most resolved expression, Willow yelled out: "Abracadabra!" She seemed genuinely surprised when nothing happened. More alarmingly, she hadn't noticed that the one demon who was still mobile was creeping up behind her.

"Crucio!" cried Hermione. The demon doubled over from pain - which came as a shock to Harry; he wasn't sure these kinds of magic would work on something that menacing.

Willow noticed and jumped to one side, still trying to make the wand she had grabbed do _something. _Faith - who seemed to be everywhere at once- jumped at the demon, kicked its feet out from under it, then grabbed its neck with her legs and brought them together

The demon felt limply to the ground, its neck snapped.

At this point, two of the demons had been killed and two of the wizards had been effectively disarmed. (Even in the ensuing madness, Harry couldn't help but notice that even though this attack was happening in broad daylight., none of the screaming or strange noises had brought forth anyone else, law enforcement or otherwise.) The enemy was now outnumbered, but demonstrated no signs of retreating. If anything, they seemed even more determined to take out their adversaries.

Harry decided to take the offensive, and began casting a series of spells at the three remaining wizards. Ron and Hermione began doing likewise, trying to find a chink in their defense But the three remaining wizards also seemed to be having no problems putting up an offensive. A standoff seemed to be emerging.

Again, they had forgotten Faith. Realizing that her usual weaponry wasn't going to do much good against this particular enemy, she was forced to improvise. Ripping a huge chunk of wood out of one of the parking structures, she moved forward with the equivalent of a staff. She ran back over to an increasingly frazzled Hermione, and whispered something to her. Whatever it was, she assented, and then began to concentrate her fire on the wizard directly in front of her.

Before the wizard even knew she was there, Faith executed a pole vault that would have been recognized with a gold medal in any other setting. She knocked the wand out of her hands, and held the staff in a vise grip over her throat.

"All right!" she shouted. "Put your wands away or I snap her neck!"

Even considering the situation, Harry was surprised to hear such a threat from her: he knew how dangerous these wizards were and he still wasn't sure that he could kill them . He wasn't sure if Faith could pull it off - he had detected a notable tremor in the Slayer's voice.

Unfortunately, the two remaining wizards seemed to have realized it as well. "You may be good at killing halfbloods," one of them replied, "but you don't have it in you to kill a real wizard."

"Pretty sure that we can," Hermione countered. "The numbers are not on your side! Put your wands down and walk away!"

"You're children playing at an adults game," the second shouted. "You can't kill us anymore than that Muggle can kill Chelsea."

"Getting goddamn tired of being called a Muggle," Faith shouted. "Bottom line is: You. Can't. Win."

"Maybe not. But you can still lose."

It was then Harry realized how stupid they'd been. They'd completely forgotten that Willow was still around, and that there was a third demon that none of them had managed to take out. And this demon was the ugliest one yet - nearly seven feet tall, covered with plating, and looking particularly angry. While they had been concentrating on each other, it had grabbed Willow and seized her around the throat. She was starting to turn blue.

"Surrender or she dies," the second wizard replied.

"Don't do it, Harry," Faith looked only a little disturbed by what she was implying. "Her life means nothing to that monster; it'll kill her for fun."

Harry was inclined to agree, and he wouldn't trust a Death Eater as far as he could throw her, but he couldn't see any other way to save Willow's life. They need a miracle.

Then there was a thunderclap, and the wizard that was closest to Willow fell to the ground, with a look of almost comic shock on his face. It took Harry several seconds to realize what he had heard was a gunshot. It took the other wizards even longer to realize that, and by then, the air was full of them.

His elation disappeared when he realized that whoever this was wasn't being discriminate as to whom they were firing on. A couple of shots resonated just feet away from him,

Not surprisingly, Faith's reactions were a lot quicker than the wizards; she knocked her prisoner unconscious with a blow to the head, then leapt to her feet, and began to run to the creature.

By now the demon had dropped Willow, but didn't seem to be otherwise troubled by the bullets that were flying through the air. Faith began attacking him, but he seemed to be having no trouble parrying her blows from her or her staff.

"You're going to need something a lot bigger to get me to run anywhere," the demon snarled.

And at that very moment, the ugly-ass van that Willow had come in came from out of nowhere, hit the creature in the side, and knocked him all the way into the nearest motel room.

As the sound of splintering wood filled the air, the window came down. "Get in!" Oz shouted.

Faith needed no second bidding. She grabbed Willow, opened the side door, and practically heaved her in. Harry and Ron didn't hesitate either, but then they noticed that Hermione was nowhere in sight.

Then they saw her come running out of their motel room, carrying the small bag that had the Horcrux and their money in it. With the sound of gunfire still echoing in their ears, this was enormously brave and intensely stupid. The threat, however, came when one of the wizards still standing cast a Crucio spell when she was halfway to the car. She screamed in agony, but would not release her cargo.

"INCENDIO!"

Suddenly the Death Eater who was standing over Hermione was a ball of fire, screaming. Hermione looked as shocked by what was going on as anybody, but she still scrambled into the van.

Oz's reactions were much quicker, and he put the van into drive, and got out of there as fast as he could.

"What were you thinking?" Ron shouted at Hermione. "You almost ate it trying to save that bloody trinket!"

"What about _you?" _Hermione seemed to have recovered from the spell, but her voice was still weak. "How could you just burn that wizard alive?"

Ron looked confused. "I thought that was you," he demanded. "I didn't cast anything."

Harry was even more surprised- he sure as hell hadn't done anything.

"What have I done?"

Every head in the car turned to Willow, who looked even whiter than some of the ghosts that Harry had seen in his life. "God, what have I done?"

Back at the motel. Chelsea found herself to be the last magician standing. All of her colleagues appeared to have been laid low by whoever had been shooting at them, and the demon - they should never have relied on half-breeds for this job- seemed to have run off.

Right now, she was trying to find a way out of this. When word of this got back to the Dark Lord, he'd probably flay her alive- if he was in a good mood. She couldn't leave town without what she and her friends had learned, but right now, she was more concerned with preserving her head than-

And suddenly, it felt like she had been struck with a bolt of lightning. Before she could even react, she was on the ground unable to move. She looked up to see something standing over in a bizarre suit and mask combination that Chelsea had never seen before.

"Man, you wizards are out of touch," the muffled voice came out. "If you'd had a couple of Uzis, you'd be the one standing over me. Figuratively speaking, of course."

Now a couple of hideous looking creatures were standing around the creature in the suit.

"Well your friends who we just capped, they were the lucky ones," The change in the face revealed him to be a vampire. "Now you've got to meet the Mayor. And he's not going to be happy that you made such a big mess in his town. "

They'd tried talking to Willow to figure out what had happened, but she seemed to have gone into shock. Oz looked like he wanted to pull over and hug her, but he had clearly lived in Sunnydale long enough to know that when facing a crisis, running was usually the safer bet.

"Where are we going?" was all that he said.

"B," Faith replied. "Whatever happened to Red, she'd probably beat our asses to a pulp if she wasn't able to help. 'Sides, you really want to try explaining this to the ER?"

Oz needed no second bidding.

"How the fuck did this happen?" Faith mumbled. "Last I knew, she couldn't make a damn pencil float without getting a major headache."

This was a question none of them could answer. Someone at Hogwarts probably would've had a clearer idea, but even they would probably have had trouble. To be perfectly honest, Harry was having a great deal of trouble caring about it right now.

He'd seen a lot of people die over the years - far too many- so one more Death Eater shouldn't have meant anything in the scheme of things. It certainly wouldn't to Voldemort, and that same idea raised a whole new set of problems that they might have to deal with very soon. Still, the sight of that anonymous Death Eater bursting into flames was bothering him in a way that even Dumbledore's murder hadn't.

Ron and Hermione were clearly bothered by this as well, so they decided to distract themselves by quarreling.

"I repeat, what the hell were you thinking?" Ron was demanding.

"I was thinking that we probably weren't going to be able to go back to our motel," Hermione was trying to be calm, but she was still furious. "I thought considering all the trouble we went to get that Horcrux, it would be useless to let it end up in Voldemort's hands again!"

"And if you happened to end up as their prisoner?" Ron countered. "Oh, that's right; they weren't there to take prisoners."

"Geez, you two. Get a room already," Faith muttered audibly.

Despite the situation they were in, Harry couldn't help but grin. The same thoughts were going through his mind.

Faith's smile disappeared. "You know," she lowered her voice. "I've been a Slayer for less than a year, and I've seen a lot of shit before, but that -" She shook her head. "Do your wizard friends traditionally hang out with demons in their spare time?"

Harry thought this over, before shaking his head. "Voldemort's very particular when it comes to who he has work for him. The fact that he's dealing with vampires at all." he paused. "I'm not wild about the direction he's heading in. Now I've got a question for you."

"Who the hell was shooting at us?" Faith shook her head this time. "No fucking clue. Little early in the day for vamps, and they don't have to pack heat. And nobody on my friends list would bother bringing a gun to a wizard's fight."

Faith was trying to be whimsical about their situation, but it seemed clear to Harry that she was as shaken up by this as everyone else.

"Is there anyone official that's going to give us trouble over this?" Hermione asked

"For once, I'm glad that the cops in this town are monumentally stupid," she told them. "There's going to be a shitstorm coming down on all of us."

"That's not what I asked and you know it." Hermione countered.

"As B told me the day we met, rule one of slaying: Don't die. What happened back there was ugly as hell, but it was necessary," Faith then thought over what she had just said. "Of course, that rule was just for Slayers, and Willow,".She shook her head. "We should've got her out of there the moment the fight started."

"I don't think we could've called time out," Ron argued.

"Still, we nearly got her killed, and then she ends up doing this, and I can't even tell B how."

The van stopped. "We're here," Oz got out of the drivers seat, and headed into the back. Willow had stopped trembling, but her skin had gotten very cold. He put his arms around her, and there was no reaction.

"Isn't there any kind of healing spell you can do on her?" he asked.

"Not if we don't know exactly what's wrong with her," Harry thought Hermione was hedging her bets. They knew a lot of healing spells, but most of them were for physical ailments. They didn't know how to deal with the psychological ones.

Oz opened the side door, and gently led Willow outside the vehicle, Faith just a step behind them. The three young wizards hung back, out of caution.

Buffy was coming out the door. "Oz, what the hell happened to your-" She trailed off as she got a good look at her friends' appearance. "Will?"

She sprinted the remaining distance. A medium-sized woman who had to be Mrs. Summers came out as well, looking just as concerned.

"Faith, Oz, what the hell?" Buffy seemed just as scrambled as they were. Then she saw Harry and her friends, and her eyes narrowed. "What did you _do?"_ she accused.

"They didn't do shit," Faith told them, but Buffy wasn't hearing them. Instead, she was trying to embrace her friend, but Willow finally reacted. She kept pushing Buffy away.

"Buffy, what's wrong?" the woman said. "Should I call 911?"

Another endless pause before Buffy shook her head. "Call Giles and Xander. Tell them I need them here right now."

"Are you sure that-"

"Mom, please," Buffy whispered. Mrs. Summers went back into the house.

"It's OK, Will, you're going to be alright."

And then for the first time since they'd hauled ass out of the motel parking lot, Willow spoke- but in such a disconnected, haunted tone that they for the first time worried about her sanity.

"I don't think I am, Buffy," she told them. "I don't think I'll ever be all right again."


	11. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

It took Xander and Giles less than twenty minutes to get to Buffy's - long enough for them to move Willow into the living room and put her on the couch. Unfortunately, she hadn't said another word, nor had she moved an inch under her own power.

It took them less than five minutes to explain who had attacked them and why. However, when Buffy had demanded to know how Willow had managed to cast a spell of her own volition, Harry and his friends still had no answer to give them. They had done so warily, because though she spoke calmly, Buffy looked like she was ready to beat the crap out of someone, and, absent any other target, the contingent from Hogwarts would do.

The mood didn't lighten much when Xander and Giles got there. Xander went to her side and began saying comforting things, all the while looking daggers at Harry. Giles was a bit calmer, but it was evident even to those who had met him the previous night, that he was very disturbed.

"So, she cast a spell without any wand at all?" he asked again.

"None of us were looking at her when she..." Ron trailed off. "No, she wasn't using a wand."

"And she told you she'd been working on her magic for the last few months, but had been mostly unsuccessful?"

"That's about all we got out of her before the shooting started," Faith replied.

Buffy seemed to refocus her energy. "Oz, Will told me a couple of weeks ago that's she's been practicing her Wicca with some friends. Any idea who they were?"

Oz looked up from his girlfriend. "That really matter?"

"Maybe they can explain how this happened,." Buffy reminded him. "Maybe they can tell us a way to fix her."

"Amy," Oz answered

Hermione blinked a couple of times when she heard that. "Amy Madison?"

"You know her?" Buffy then answered her own question. "Of course you do. I imagine you've got an entry on her in the latest edition of _Who's Who in Magic."_

"Actually, Dumbledore was almost certain she was the one who cast the spell that restored Angel's soul," Hermione replied.

"Let's hope not," Xander finally looked up from his best friend for a moment. "That girl's a few sticks short of a bundle."

"Then why did you go to her to cast your little love spell on Cordelia?" Buffy countered.

"Because I wasn't thinking very clearly at the time," Xander replied. "Besides, you saw what happens when she gets pissed off."

"Would someone mind filling us in?"

Reluctantly Buffy told them about Amy's mother, a practicing witch who had never gotten over her glory days as a high school cheerleader, and had used her own daughter as a way to relive her lost youth. They were deliberately vague when they revealed her final fate.

Given how horribly her mother had used magic to abuse her, Harry was surprised to learn that Amy had started going down that same road less than a year ago. Nor were they at all encouraged when they learned Amy had cast a love spell that had backfired with nearly disastrous consequences on Xander, and had led to Buffy being briefly turned into a rat. This didn't sound like someone who should be dabbling in the dark arts at all, much less instructing a witch as potentially powerful as Willow.

Giles clearly felt the same way. "Buffy, I realize how desperately we want to get Willow back to herself, but the truth of the matter is, no magic may be able to do what we need." He hesitated before plunging ahead. "Willow killed a man, without malice or even intent, but the fact is someone has died because of her actions. She may need help that transcends the physical."

"So what are saying we do?" Xander's voice sounded a lot harder than they'd expected. "Turn her over to the Sunnydale hospital? The police? They're not equipped to deal with the kind of thing, and we all know it."

"He's right," Hermione spoke up. "The normal authorities wouldn't be able to handle this situation. Besides, considering how non-existent they were when we got attacked in broad daylight, I don't want them anywhere near us."

"First, we have to get Willow out of this... coma, or whatever the hell this is," Buffy replied. "Is Amy even still in town?"

"I'll get her," Xander replied.

"What makes you think she'll listen to you?" Ron asked.

"You heard what she did. The witch owes me one." With that Xander stormed out.

"Shouldn't one of us go with him?" Hermione asked.

"It's the middle of the day," Faith pointed out. "Whoever these people are, they're not going to run the exact same play twice. They're not that dumb."

Buffy seemed about to disagree, but at that moment, Willow finally began to stir, uttering something between a moan and a howl. Instantly, Buffy was kneeling by her best friend. "Will?"

For a long time, it seemed like that was all they were going to get. "Darkness," she finally said in the same disconnected tone that she had spoken in earlier.

Giles suddenly seemed to have more control over the situation. "Where, Willow? Where is it?"

"Everywhere," Willow whispered. "The earth screams with it. The rivers run red with blood. The mountains howl his name."

The Slayers were baffled by this. So were Hermione and Ron. Harry, however, thought he might have an idea as to what was happening. "Did you sense him?" he asked carefully.

Willow took another one of those deathly pauses before answering. "It's hard. "So much fire and madness in the way."

"Is she talking about Voldemort?" Ron asked.

Harry was certain that she was. However, Willow reacted to this for the first time by shaking her head violently.

"He is much darker, much greater. Has been around longer." Willow was speaking in jerks now.

"Who the hell is she talking about?" Faith demanded. "Angelus, Spike?"

"Easy," Giles instructed. But Willow seemed to respond to the invocation.

"This land is his. Has always been his. His hour on the stage has come. After decades of waiting, he is ready to rise." Willow blinked several times. "Demons have followed him for years and will follow him now."

"Follow him where?" Harry asked.

"Here," Willow now started to chuckle, but it was the kind of laugh that Harry had always associated with Bellatrix. "When he comes into power, nothing, not even the greatest darkness, will be able to strike him down. The wicked will be triumphant, and the champions shall serve as fodder to his powers. The dead will envy the living, and the gods will look down and laugh."

Ron looked at Hermione. "She's not talking about Voldemort, is she?" she replied.

For once, their friend didn't have a ready answer. Giles, however, seemed to. "We've heard this talk before," he said to Buffy. "This smacks of prophecy. The religious talk that the followers of the Master and others of his ilk used to swear by."

"But Buffy already killed him," Hermione pointed out.

"And ground his bones into dirt," Giles agreed. "But that doesn't mean there aren't other creatures like him, and that they might have set up roots on the Hellmouth."

"Never mind that. How did Willow learn this? What does any of this have to do with _her?_" Buffy was starting to lose her cool.

"The Hellmouth possesses huge amounts of dark energy and magic," Giles replied. "Maybe when Willow cast that spell she found a way to tap into somehow. It shouldn't be possible, especially not in someone as inexperienced in magic as she is, but," Giles looked at Harry and sighed. "iIf what Dumbledore believed of her is true, then it's very possible."

"Are you saying she absorbed some of the Hellmouth?" Hermione asked.

"That's an inelegant way of putting, but yes."

"So how do we get it out of her?" Buffy insisted. "Can't we perform some kind of exorcism?"

"It's not as simple as that," Giles argued.

"Only in our world would you call an exorcism 'simple'." Faith smiled, but none of the others seemed to appreciate her humor.

"Removing a lost spirit can be done in a couple of rituals. But Willow absorbed dark energy." Giles removed his glasses and began to polish them. "Unless you have some other kind of vessel that you can use to contain it, it could just as easily return to Willow - or any of us."

This sounded extremely dangerous even for Harry's tolerance. Buffy didn't think about it twice. "We have to try," she said decisively. "We can't just wait here and hope."

Harry was sure that Giles would argue the point - reigning in your Slayer was what a Watcher was supposed to do. But Giles apparently had meant what he said when they had talked the previous night. He turned to Hermione. "How well read are you in Ancient Languages?"

"Latin, Greek, Etruscan, some Sumerian, and enough Arabic to get by." Hermione actually sounded apologetic for being at a level most wizards her age weren't even close to approaching.

Giles only nodded. "In my library, there are some texts from the Pythian that detail these kinds of rituals."

"I didn't see any of those at the school," Hermione replied.

"Some of the more important texts are in my home."

Hermione tried to hide her astonishment that a curator of one of the greatest magic libraries any of them had ever seen apparently had a restricted section. "Wouldn't you be able to translate them?" she asked instead.

"I have to find them. My personal collection isn't quite as organized as the one at the school."

Buffy looked at her Watcher in disbelief, and Harry couldn't blame her - Giles seemed to be the type who would alphabetize his soups. Then she shrugged it off. "Go. And hurry. Sunset's just a couple of hours away."

The next hour just seemed to drag. Harry had honestly expected that Mrs. Summers would have more questions when strangers showed up on her doorstep with one of her daughter's best friends in a virtual coma, but the only question that she asked was whether she should call Willow's parents.

Buffy didn't have to think that long. "Last thing she told me was that was that her parents are in Sweden for another one of their lectures," she replied. "They don't need to hear is this, especially when it'll be fixed by the time that they get back."

This was the first sign that Buffy had shown that her friend would recover, but as the hour passed and Willow showed no sign of coming out of her shock, Harry began to wonder if this was more Slayer bravado. The lighter-haired Slayer seemed a lot less capable of dealing with what she was seeing - and this was a woman who'd thwarted at least two apocalypses and the second time had to send her boyfriend to hell doing it.

At the end of the hour, they were treated to the spectacle of Xander returning, practically hauling a red-brown haired girl around the same age as everyone else. Given the look on her face, and what little they knew about her, Harry smelled trouble.

"I know you and your little gang of intrepids are fighting the good fight," Amy started. "I just thought you had the sense to avoid using civilians."

"Hey, you've been training with her the past three months," Buffy retaliated. "You should know by now she's capable of a lot more than we give her credit for."

"Last thing we need is another fight," Harry jumped in. "You're Amy Madison, right?"

"And who are you?"

_I guess my infamy hasn't spread to even young magicians in this country. _Harry shrugged it off, and moved on. "Let's just say my friends and I are fellow concerned wizards."

Amy raised an eyebrow, but said nothing more. "All right then, " She took out a device that looked remarkably close to a Pensieve. Harry could only assume that they were designed differently in America. "You know what this does?"

Seeing that Buffy and Faith would need an explanation, Harry told them what a penseive was for. Ron then asked the question that had occurred to Harry when he saw it: "Where'd you get one of those?"

Amy at least had the good grace to a little abashed. "I found it when I was going through some of my Mom's stuff. Based on the carvings, I think it's American in origin. This model has the ability to tap into the subconscious in a certain way. I can use it hopefully to get a picture of what's going on in her head."

Under other circumstances, Harry might have protested. Going into a person's memory when it was given willingly was ethically sketchy enough; doing it to someone who wasn't going to be an agreeable participant seemed a little close to what Voldemort was considering. But right now, he didn't think they had much of a choice.

"How do you want to proceed?" he asked.

"Well, this is where things get awkward," Amy admitted. "Based on everything that I know about this device, in order to get this thing to work properly, the person has to voluntarily give you access to their thoughts." She looked at Willow and her vacant stare. "Something I'm guessing we're not going to get."

"You've never had any trouble manipulating people's minds before," Xander countered.

"And as you'll recall, doing that led to some pretty terrible consequences," Amy reminded them hotly. "You may think that I'm just one step above a bitch, but I happen to like Willow. Causing her brain damage is not something I would want."

Buffy seemed to want to contradict this, but this time she was the one who exercised discretion. "Is there another way that you can figure out what's wrong with her?" she asked.

"You know Willow better than anybody here," Amy replied. "She killed a man. The fact that she didn't mean to do it, that it was defensible, if not excusable, doesn't make a difference to her. Now I can maybe form some kind of psychic connection with her, find out what's going on in her head. But as to getting her to come out of it..." She shook her head. "I'm a good witch, but I'm not a miracle worker."

Buffy looked even more pained by this than seeing Willow in this state. "I'm the one who's supposed to deal with the heavy stuff, not her," she whispered.

Just then, Hermione and Giles reappeared, both laden with books. "We may be able to help..." Giles abruptly came to a stop when he noticed that the mood was even direr than it had been when he'd left.

Just then, Buffy turned to Hermione. "Were you serious about my having access to magical abilities?" she demanded.

"I'm sure of it," Hermione replied.

"Including the ability to do psychic links between two magicians?"

Gile's' and Amy's faces both looked very alarmed all of a sudden. Amy was less tactful. "Are you out of your mind?" she exclaimed.

"Someone's got to get Willow out of her head," Buffy reminded them. "I'm her best friend, I have magical abilities, and I'm the only one who's had to deal with this kind of weight. I am going."

Her tone brooked no argument. Giles, however, had one. "Buffy, this isn't a monster that you put a stake in and it'll go away. There are endless ways that this can go wrong, and it could do as much damage to you as to Willow."

"Not if she has an anchor," Harry came to a decision that until a moment ago he hadn't realized that he'd been making. "One of us has to go in with her."

Now Ron looked concerned, but he turned to Hermione instead. "Is what they're talking about even possible?" he asked.

Hermione already looked worried, now she seemed like her brow was going to get a permanent furrow. "It's probably dangerous as well, but yes."

"Then it has to be me who does it," Ron didn't look any happier suggesting this idea that Harry had been hearing it. "Look, we all know you're smart enough to figure out a way to fix things if they go wrong. And Harry has other obligations that he has to fulfill. That leaves me."

Hermione looked like she wanted to hit Ron. Then she ran over what he had just said. "When did you become so logical?" she said slowly.

"It is logical," Harry replied. "Unfortunately, he's wrong."

"Harry," Ron started.

"She's about to go inside another person's head, right?" Harry replied. "And what particular skill is useful at that?"

"Occlumency," Hermione replied resignedly.

Ron shook his head. "I was really hoping you wouldn't figure that out," he told his best friend.

Personally, Harry was wishing he didn't have to be so damn intuitive.

Buffy was doing her best to keep up a stolid front, but she clearly was nervous about doing this - making psychic field trips wasn't in the Slayer handbooks. Assurances from Hermione (who seemed to be the Willow of her group) and Giles aside, this struck her as the kind of thing that could go wrong fast.

'"How close is this Occlumency to what we need to do to?" Buffy asked her.

Hermione decided not to waste time correcting her. "Essentially, you have to form the magical equivalent of a psychic bond. Now I think I can talk Harry through this. It's going to be a lot more difficult with you."

"I thought you said..."

"This is difficult for someone who's been studying this their entire lives," Hermione replied. "Harry has only been trained at it the past few years, and Occlumency is basically learning how to prevent someone from getting in your mind. We haven't had much experience at doing it the other way around."

"Don't sugarcoat it for us; tell us the truth," Xander replied in that faux cheerful tone he tended to use when he was nervous.

"Bottom line, Buffy," Hermione finally told her. "We can probably make this work, but once you and Harry get in, you're going to be on your own."

"Then I think we'd better just get started," Harry replied in a tone that clearly indicated he rather be performing root canal by going in through the stomach.

"Focus on Willow's eyes," Hermione told them.

This was harder than it looked because Willow's eyes kept wandering away. Eventually, Oz gripped her hand and gently whispered her ear. When that did nothing, he very carefully held her head in place. "Hurry up, I'm not wild about doing this," he told them.

"Keep focusing, very deeply. Try to pierce the veil that keeps Willow's thoughts from yours," Hermione whispered. "Focus on the magical bonds that link you and her together."

Considering how much trouble they'd been having getting into her using normal means, Harry clearly expected that he would be having greater difficulty doing this. But apparently, he'd learned something from Snape's effort at getting into his head, because less than a minute after he'd started, Willow began to blink.

Buffy, if anything, seemed even less happy than Harry did. "Is this normal?"

"There's no baseline for this," Giles replied. "All minds are different. And I can't imagine Willow putting up much resist-"

And, of course, at that moment, everything changed. The air suddenly filled with electricity. The temperature dropped several degrees. And Willow's eyes seemed to turn black.

Even Faith seemed a little nervous. "Um, is this normal?" she asked in a tone that seemed jumpier then anything Harry had associated with the Slayer.

At that moment, that charge of electricity seemed to fill Harry. He felt Buffy grabbed his hand a split second before it felt like a bomb exploded... inside him.

When Harry regained consciousness, his first thought was that he was still asleep. His friends and hers, Buffy's house, hell, all of the Sunnydale appeared to be gone. The landscape - if that was what you could call it - more closely resembled the moors of England then anything else, but Willow had never seen them, so why on earth would she come here?

"Willow!" he shouted. "Buffy!" There was no response to either cry. To be fair, he would have been surprised if there had been.

Suddenly, the landscape seemed to shift - there was no better word for it. When it finished, he was inside. He wasn't sure, but it looked like the interior of Sunnydale High - only it, too, was equally deserted.

Then a figure appeared at the end of the hallway- a young boy with dark hair, most likely a school-chum of Willow's.

With nowhere else to go, Harry began to walk towards him. "Have you seen Willow?" It was an inane question - talking to a figment of her imagination- but, at this point, he needed guidance.

"Her?" The boy shrugged. "She's in the computer lab. That girl seriously needs to get out more."

The boy's face changed to that of a vampire. "Course, whenever she does that, things like _this_ happen."

Harry was about to reach for his wand, when he found that he didn't have it anymore. He couldn't figure out why, and a few moments later, the question was rendered moot when the boy turned to dust. He didn't explode, like the vampires Faith had killed; rather, he turned into a pile and slowly blew away.

Not sure what he was supposed to make of this, Harry continued walking but found he wasn't moving. Rather, the hallways seemed to be moving. Shrugging this off as something that Willow was doing, he just kept - walking.

Eventually, he reached a room labeled TECH LAB on the top. There was only one person inside, but Harry blinked several times because for a moment he thought he was looking at Ginny. Even knowing this was impossible did not dispel the illusion. It was Willow, but her hair was much longer and she was wearing a skirt-and-pinafore combination that would have been more fitting at Hogwarts then on anybody in California.

"Willow, are all you right?"

"I'm busy." She didn't even look up from her computer.

Harry was a little unsure of himself. Not only was this foreign territory for him, he didn't have the slightest idea of how to talk with Willow. Nevertheless, he decided to try. "Everybody's worried about you," he started.

"No, they're not," she countered.

"We need you to come out," he asked.

"I gotta finish my homework," was all she said.

There wasn't a gentlemanly way to respond to this, so Harry tried direct. "No one blames you for anything."

The moment the last word was out he knew he'd said the wrong thing. Willow looked up from the screen, but it wasn't the Willow he recognized even from this morning. Her hair was jet black and her eyes were completely dark. "Why? Everything that happens is my fault!"

Suddenly, there was a gust of wind with the force of a hurricane. Harry stood against it as long as he could, but eventually the sheer force blew him back down the hall - until he was no longer in the school or in the moors.

He was in the abandoned ruins of what looked like a factory of some kind. And again, he was not alone. He could hear the sounds of fighting going on somewhere in the distance.

"Buffy!" he shouted. Again, he didn't expect an answer. If Buffy were brawling with- whatever figment of Willow's subconscious there was- she wouldn't have breath to waste. Besides, she was the Slayer.

Which is why it came as a shock to hear her cry. "Little help, here!"

He started to run. Again the sensation of remaining stationary while the scenery moved, but this time he ignored it.

However, he couldn't conceal his surprise when he got there and saw whom Buffy was fighting.

Angelus. Or maybe it was Angel. Harry assumed it was the latter considering that Buffy didn't seem to have her heart in the fight.

"You gonna do anything or not?" Buffy asked.

Harry was considering what exactly she wanted him to do, when he saw that his wand was by his side again. Only it wasn't the one he'd used all his life, but rather one longer, thinner, and capped. He knew enough about TV to know this was probably an American's perception of a wand rather than an actual one.

He was about to take it out- hell, it was Willow's head, it would probably work just as well- when Angel's face shifted from that of the vampire to that of his human guise

"Buffy?" he said, in a voice that sounded like a former drunkard trying to regain sobriety. Then a hole emerged, literally out of thin air. It grew till it was roughly the size of a desk. Angel fell backwards and was sucked in, his eyes filled with pain.

Buffy fell back for a moment, as she seemed to realize what was going on. "Damn it, I've done this already," she whispered. "Why is Willow's subconscious giving me an instant replay?"

Harry was at a loss, and then two separate conversations re-played in his head. "The spell ensouling Angel again, when did it kick in?"

This was clearly a subject Buffy had hoped she had put behind her. "Just after he summoned Acathla. But it was too late. I had to send him to hell in order to keep the demon from swallowing the world."

"So Angel ended up spending an eternity in hell completely souled and conscious," It was now dawning on him. "Willow clearly blames herself for that."

Buffy's expression seemed to be at war. It was pretty clear that this had been a major issue for her as well, and she didn't want to have to go through something she had put to bed.

"Where's Willow?" she asked instead.

Harry was about to gesture down the hall, only to find that the tech lab was suddenly behind them. He shrugged it off - who was he to argue with the way Willow's head was arranged? "She's in here," he told her.

"I think I'll go first," Buffy walked in the door. Harry walked in behind her, and was only slightly surprised to see that the scenery had changed yet again.

This time they were back outside near the motel. There was fighting going on, but all seemed a lot dimmer than the action before- background noise, which is probably what it was to Willow at the time.

Buffy assumed a defensive position, but Harry put his hand on her shoulder. "It's just her head; I don't think that there's anything in it that can hurt us."

Buffy raised an eyebrow. "You really believe that?"

And a split second later, one of the demons that had attacked Faith took a swing at Harry, taking a chunk out of his arm. Buffy instantly tried to kick it - and her attack went right through it. "Oh, crap,.".

"And now I think we run," Harry told her.

Buffy probably would have agreed with that, but then they both saw Willow. She was cornered in one section of the lot, looking paler than she had when they had brought her into Buffy's house.

The wizard who had her cornered was casting spells, but for the life of him, Harry couldn't understand anything that was coming out of the wizard's mouth. He began running over to her, but before he and Buffy could get there, Willow found her feet, and shouted at the top of her lungs: **"FLAME ON!"**

Everything then started to decelerate. The ball of fire just flew from Willow's finger, and hit the wizard. When he asked Buffy about it later, she told him that it was like watching a movie where the action has slowed down to frame-by-frame. In real life, it had probably taken less than half a minute for the wizard to die; here, it just seemed to go on forever. And every detail- the clothing slowly burning, the fleshing reddening, browning, like a steak on a barbecue, the screaming amplifying every second- seemed to be ingrained inside like she had memorized them.

Harry didn't want to watch, but he wasn't surprised that he couldn't immediately turn his head away - Willow wasn't going to spare any detail in her mind. Using an effort he was never able to explain to the others later, he managed to fix his gaze on her.

He was horrified to see that Willow was now dressed in garb that would have been fit on the oldest type of American witches, complete with a pointed hat, and that she was tied to a real stake, complete with a pile of dry wood at the bottom.

All of the fight that had been in her eyes moments ago was completely gone; she now looked resigned to her fate.

By now, the wizard had finished burning to death, and Buffy had managed to avert her eyes. She was therefore nearly as shocked as Harry to see that there were now a group of women standing around the stake, holding torches.

"Willow," Buffy told her friend. "Don't do this."

"Why shouldn't she?" Harry didn't recognize the speaker- she was a tall, attractive girl around his age, with long brown hair. For some reason, there was a gaping, bloody wound in her torso. "She's been judged by a jury of her peers."

A chorus of 'Guilty" began to spring up. Harry was only mildly surprised to see that all of the women had Willow's face. "Burn the witch!" followed, and each of the Willow's began to light the pile of sticks afire.

"Can't you do anything?" Buffy demanded of Harry.

"This is Willow's head. She's the only person who can change her mind." Harry turned to Buffy. "You wanted to save her? I think our only chance is for you to persuade her that she doesn't deserve this."

Buffy needed no second bidding, and even though the flames were starting to rise, she ran until she was virtually on top of the Willows.

"This isn't your fault, Will," she began. "Someone was going to die if you didn't act."

"Someone's always going to die," the Willow chorus said. "That doesn't mean that we need to give them a push."

"Willow, it was an accident," Buffy tried again.

"Accidents are just lies we tell ourselves to protect us from the truth," the chorus replied. "A way of avoiding responsibility."

"Yeah, but you don't have the take all of the blame on your shoulders," Buffy was starting to sound frantic.

"You do. Giles does. Angel does. Why should she be any different?" The chorus seemed even less concerned about this.

Now she was getting angry. "Because she's not a damn Slayer!" Buffy shouted .

"Potato, po-tat-oh," All the Willows turned towards the stake where the flames were getting higher. "Bored now."

Buffy realized she wasn't going to get anywhere trying to get past the false Willows, so she focused all her energy on the real one.

"I've known you for awhile now," she started again. "We've grown a lot, power-wise and emotion-wise, but, at your core, you're the same person. You're the most good-hearted person that I know. Now you may think that because of what you just did that you're a monster. As someone who has seen them, human and otherwise, you are nothing like them. Because you still see the good in everybody."

By now, the flames were touching Willow's feet. She wasn't screaming- which might have been a good sign- but the flames were still climbing.

"Even after all the horrible things Angelus did, you still wanted to save him. Even after you learned what Oz was, you still wanted to be his girlfriend. Even after you learned that I'd been lying to you about Angel being back, you still didn't want to raise a lynch mob. You see the good in everybody." Buffy was all but begging now. "Why can't you see it in yourself?"

The flames were frozen where they were. However, for the first time, Willow spoke instead of the chorus that was watching her burn.

"I didn't even think about what I was doing," she said slowly. "I just reacted. And if I can do something that powerful without even thinking twice, what am I going to be like if I ever get control of the magic? What if I become this weapon that this Voldemort wants to use?"

Harry had decided that he'd better step in. "I know that it's frightening that you have this potential for darkness in you," he told her. "I know you think this is something you have to run away from. But this magic is only one part of you. It doesn't change who you are. "

"We can help you fight the darkness," Buffy added. "You've stuck with me through all of the hard times. What makes you think I'd desert you now that you need my help?"

There was a very long pause. Then suddenly, even though the sky in this realm was still clear, rain began to fall. In less than a minute, the fires that had been climbing, were completely extinguished. The group of Willows had melted into the ether as well, and Buffy ran to the stake and frantically got Willow down.

Willow was weeping as Buffy embraced her. "It's all right, Will, it's all gonna be all right."

There was a sound like a huge balloon deflating, and suddenly the three of them were back in Buffy's living room. Suddenly the room seemed a lot more crowded than it had before.

"You all right?" Hermione directed her question at Harry.

"What was it like on your end?" Harry countered.

"The three of you were in the room corporeally, but it was like you were all- somewhere else," Ron told them. "You'd been out long enough that we were starting to consider having to follow you in. Not something we were looking forward to trying."

"How long were we in there?"

"Thirty minutes, give or take," Hermione replied.

Harry could've sworn they'd been in there for longer, but considering that his sense of time had pretty much turned to water, he decided that he was better off not trying to analyze this.

Instead, he looked over at Giles and Xander who were now standing around Willow and Buffy. Their positions hadn't changed since they had come out of whatever netherworld they'd been trapped in. "We got her out," he told them. "I think she'll be okay physically. But I think it's going to be awhile before she even tries to use magic again."

"Maybe that's not such a bad thing."

The three looked up to see that Faith had been standing apart from the Slayer and her friends. Harry thought that this was rather sad - for all the things she had done in the last couple hours, she still considered herself an outsider.

"Willow just went on a major head trip and all she did was a spell that, according to you, is one of the first things you get taught at Hogwarts," Faith reminded them. "And judging how she reacted when she was trying to defend herself, I hate to think what'll happen when they start trying to kill her properly. She's not ready for this."

Given what Harry had just played witness to, he couldn't argue with Faith's arguments. The problem was, time was a luxury they couldn't afford. Death Eaters knew that Harry and his friends were on the Hellmouth. Even if the still unknown assailant had finished wiping out the group at the motel, somebody in the chain of command had to know about it, which meant that within days at the most, Voldemort would know about it if he didn't already. Harry had some nightmarish fantasies, but the idea of the Dark Lord let loose on a Hellmouth was not one that he wanted to see played out

"What we want and what has to happen are two different things," Harry reminded them. "War is coming, Faith, and unless we get prepared and act fast, a lot of good people are going to die."

Harry didn't add that even if that happened, the bad guys might still end up winning.

Mainly because there were certain alternatives he refused to accept.


	12. Chapter 11

Compared to what had happened those first two days, the rest of the year was a lot calmer. Of course, that was by Hellmouth standards, which meant a lot of vampire stalking, magical training and computer hacking, but nobody who could've been considered an agent of Voldemort appeared immediately following that first attack.

This didn't ease the tension more than an iota. When Harry told the remainder of the Sunnydale gang that Voldemort was apparently seeking out Spike and Drusilla, Buffy went on a demon-slaughtering spree. The rest of the crew, however, walked around in an awkward silence for the next several hours, going quiet whenever anyone mentioned what kind of mess would occur when their nemesis blew back into town.

Eventually Giles had to tell them that Spike had been so piss drunk that he hadn't been much of a threat (even Mrs. Summers seemed to be sympathetic to him). However, his mere presence had basically torpedoed everybody's relationship, and had left Cordelia (who had been back in town for a couple of days, but still wasn't talking to anyone else) effectively estranged from Buffy and her friends. No one was looking forward to seeing him and Drusilla again, least of all Angel.

Harry was more concerned about why there had been no further appearances of the Death Eaters, considering how close they had come to succeeding on their very first try. He considered the possibility that Voldemort was coming to finish the job himself, which led to the question why he hadn't done so already. His scar had not so much as twinged in the past three days, and, although he'd never admit it, he had found himself wishing for a vision, anything that might make him feel like he wasn't sitting on a powder keg.

The process of training Faith and Buffy was going a lot slower than anybody - especially the Slayers - would have liked. Neither of these girls was patient under the best of circumstances, and, considering what had happened, they were even more keyed up about their difficulties than Hermione was. After a few tests supervised by Hermione and Giles (who seemed to be remarkably forgiving of all the vitriol she had spewed when they first met), they were agreed that both Slayers definitely had magical powers within their grasp. What was not clear was what kind of magic it was, and with no wand maker within a hundred miles of the Hellmouth, both girls absolutely refused to leave to try and get one considering the nature of the crisis.

Nor were they making much notable progress with Willow, who was still demonstrating the kind of fragility associated with bone china. She had not gone near any kind of magic since the day of the attack, and had refused the Trio's many offers to teach any further spells. Everybody understood why, and Willow certainly understood the severity of the situation, but the girl had a resolve that had only grown harder.

It was on the last day of the year that she finally managed to take a step in the right direction, and it was the use of her other major skill that ended up saving the day.

"All right," she told them, finally looking up from her laptop. "I've had to go through almost every major building in the city,, but I think that I know where the other Horcrux is."

Harry was impressed. He had a couple of ideas on how to finally destroy the locket that they'd been carrying, but given the excitement and the overall need to train, he'd let it go. Now he was glad to see that Willow hadn't quit on them after all. "Where is it?" he asked.

"The museum had it on display for the better part of six months- not that odd, considering the lack of demand in Sunnydale," she told them. "What was odd was that the thing was under armed guard twenty-four hours a day, considering that no one had been willing to give historic or fiscal value to any of them."

"So someone knew it was important, but not enough to remove it from public display," Hermione replied. "Are we certain that there' was no one connected with the Death Eaters before a week ago?"

Buffy shook her head. "I've tossed Willy's place so often the guy asked me to set up a tab," she told them. "If Moldywart's setting up grounds here, he's staying away from demon establishments."

"Anyway, as of January first, the museum, like many across the country, will do a complete inventory before deciding which exhibits remain visible for the coming year,." Will hesitated. "As of January second, the four cups which bear the houses of Hogwarts are going to be transferred to the British Museum. But until then, they'll be housed in a small warehouse in the factory section of Sunnydale."

"Please don't tell me,…" Xander started.

"Not the same one Spike used, but it's within walking distance." Willow looked at him. "Now I don't know if this is happening because of your Ministry - someone really needs to tell your colleagues about computers- but whatever the reason, we've got a window. Thank God for the holidays."

"How long?" Harry asked.

"Roughly sixteen hours from now," Willow replied.

"So we're planning a heist," Xander replied. "Why does this remind me of an old movie?"

"Everything does." Buffy turned her attention to Willow. "What's the security like in this warehouse?"

"I'm downloading the blueprints from city planning right now."

Harry knew less about computers than Buffy, but even he knew enough that what Willow was doing should pretty much impossible. Maybe this was the real reason the redhead was ignoring magic - hacking came far easier, and had much more potential for payoff than wizardry.

Within five minutes, Willow had a complete layout of the floor plan. "Bad news,; it looks like this place has better security than half the banks in this town," she told them. "Three guards on each entrance, security cameras at each corner covering a half mile around the place, couple of what look to be electronic doors with a couple of pass codes, and the whole thing is wired with infrared…"

"So what's the good news?" Ron asked.

"I don't see anything that probably couldn't be overcome by two Slayers and three wizards," Willow gave a small smile. "After all, Buffy's been doing this kind of thing for years, and you three managed to get into the Ministry of Magic, which I imagine is harder to get into than some nuclear missile silos."

Harry didn't think that it would help to mention that, in their case, they'd almost been caught. "What would we have to do?" he asked instead.

Willow was starting to look nervous for the first time. "A lot less than you'd think," she told them. "For one thing, if you give me half an hour, I think that I can hack into Sunnydale's power main."

Now Giles was starting to look genuinely concerned. "Willow, I realize you're very gifted with that infernal machine, but isn't that a little risky even for you?"

"I've been hacking into the city morgue, the hospital grid, and even the police server This would almost be a cakewalk. Besides," she managed a genuine smile, "I've already managed to blackout a city block this year. Only difference with this, it'd be a lot quicker to turn it back on."

Harry was not entirely sure that he wanted to hear about this particular story, and neither was Buffy. "Say you kill the power. How does this get us past the guards with the guns?" she asked.

"You've taken on vampires, zombies, and a couple of snake gods," Faith countered. "Don't tell me a couple of rent-a-cops have you buffaloed."

"We could probably incapacitate them with no real problems," Hermione replied. "What bothers me is that all this floor plan does is list the Muggle precautions."

"You're right," Giles told them. "Considering the nature oft these, um, goblets, and how this town tends to function in general, there's a very good chance there will be some kind of magical protections."

"Way to kill the buzz," Faith replied, turning to Hermione. "Aren't there some kind of, ya know, background spells you could cast, show us what we're dealing with?"

"There are rudimentary spells that could tells us if magic is about," Hermione conceded,. "What it wouldn't tell us is what kind of magic it was."

"What about the spells you think were used at," Buffy paused, "I want to say Gringos?"

"Gringotts," Hermione replied. "We can only guess there, and for all we know, on your side of the ocean, you've got a complete list of American spells that we have no experience with."

Faith looked at her watch. "I think we're just going to have to risk it," she told them. "We can't exactly plan a perfect heist in less than half a day. Not to mention the fact that we're gonna have to do this at night, which opens the windows to all those nasties that might be there."

"Faith's right," Buffy agreed. "We've got to move fast, and worry about the risks and dangers we'll face when we get there. This is not how I wanted to spend the New Years either, " she held up a hand to Giles, who seemed poised to object, "but we've got to do this now. "

"I was only going to ask how we should proceed," Giles replied.

"It's just past three," she told them. "Which means sunset's in two hours. We need to start working, be ready to move by six at the absolute latest."

"Right," Ron replied. "Because it's not like the danger level in this town goes up when the sun goes down. Hell, for all we know, they've got some vamps on their security detail."

"That's the reason two of us are going in," Buffy replied. "One Slayer, one wizard. And even though I know you have issues, we're probably going to need Angel."

"Of course," Xander chimed in. "Can't commit a crime in this town without Deadboy's help."

Though none of the wizards had been determined to shoot Angel on sight since their disastrous first meeting, their collective opinion had not improved a great deal. Even allowing for the things he had done with a soul, the fact remained that he was a killer. And none of them was wild about him being around Buffy, all their words to the contrary that they were just 'friends'.

"Considering that we're dealing with body sensors, we're probably better off with somebody with no body heat," Buffy countered, looking at Xander. "I've seen the same movies you have."

"And we don't know magic spells that could probably counter that,." Ron was probably the most openly hostile towards Angel.

"Everybody's going to have a job," Buffy reminded them. "This has to go smoothly, or..."

She didn't have to finish the sentence. Instead, she turned to Hermione. "How much of the stuff that you used to get into the Ministry did you bring with you?"

"Most of it's still at the motel, assuming the rooms haven't been looted by now."

None of them had gone back to the motel since the attack, choosing instead to camp out at Buffy's and Willow's houses. (Xander told them that his parents wouldn't like visitors, but refused to reveal any further details) They had paid up through the end of the week when they had come in, and Buffy had done a few strolls by since then, but none of them had been willing to risk more than that.

"I think it's time that one of us took a chance," Harry replied. "At the very least, we need to know if we've still got any Death Eaters still on our tail." He turned to Hermione. "Do we have enough material to whip up some paralytics?"

The town's biggest magic shop had been closed ever since the proprietor had been murdered in November. Considering that she'd been the second owner to die in less than a year, there were a scarcity of buyers, even in a town like Sunnydale. Fortunately, no one had been in a hurry to move the remaining inventory. Hermione and Buffy had paid a visit two days earlier, and while a fair amount had been eye candy, there had been some materials suitable for everyday spell-casting, mainly basic level potions. That left quite a bit out, though- there were some ingredients (along with devices that Fred and George had made) that they weren't going to be able to replace if they didn't retrieve the bag.

"It'll take a few minutes, but you're not going alone," Hermione told him bluntly. "Not until I can whip up a decent Polyjuice."

"The undead community already knows I'm here," Harry reminded him. "For that matter, I'm willing to bet whatever American Death Eaters are here do too. "

"Yes, but we don't have to telegraph to them your exact location," Buffy pointed out. "I'm not even sure it's a good idea for you to even go."

"Motel's not going to let anybody in who didn't have the room in the first place," Harry pointed out. "Security was light, but it wasn't _that _light."

"I'll go with him," Faith finally volunteered. "That enough protection for you?"

"This isn't just about keeping Harry alive," Ron reminded them. "Either of you gets caught, this entire plan will go down the toilet."

"Which is why they're not going to catch us," Faith gave a smile that meant nothing good to any monster. "I've got an idea that will simultaneously freak them out and keep the bastards on their toes."

She turned to Hermione. "Can you make a potion for each of us?"

"Yes," Hermione said slowly, "but it won't last for as long. Couple of hours at the utter maximum."

"If we do this right, it'll be all the time we need," Faith told them.

"Who exactly do you intend to disguise yourself as?" Buffy asked.

"That's the beauty part." Faith replied. "We're not going to be using disguises."

Then she unfolded the plan. When he heard it, Harry realized he had underestimated Faith yet again. There was enough risk in this plan to keep her adrenaline pumping, but even if they got caught, it would throw a hell of a shock into the Death Eaters.

.

Even by Sunnydale standards, the turnover service at the motor lodge was pretty bleak, and considering how much trouble he'd caused in just one day, Harry expected a bit more trouble at the front desk. But the clerk didn't so much as blink, just handed him the room key.

Harry knew that the room was a trap; the only question was whether it was magical, people were crouched inside waiting, or both. The fact that the clerk was still alive was no guarantee of anything- for that matter, the clerk might be another disguised imposter. Hell, for all they knew, the bag of goodies they'd come with wasn't even there anymore. But retrieving it was the reason they were there, so stopping now was out of the question.

Of course, that didn't mean they were going to make it easy. There was a window on the far side of the room. Harry took a route so circuitous, the most dedicated Death Eater would have trouble following. Upon reaching the room, Harry very carefully peeked inside.

The lights were out and the curtains were drawn, and Harry suspected it wasn't because of the turndown service. The smart move would've been to retreat, and try and find another way. But they hadn't come here to be subtle.

_If the people at this motel aren't already pissed, they'll sure as hell be angry now. _Harry picked up a sizable stone, and heaved it through the window.

There were a series of loud pops, and by the time Harry could focus his vision, he was surrounded. This time, the Death Eaters looked a lot younger and tougher. It was going to be hard to scare them.

Harry liked a challenge.

"You know, for someone his Ministry considers to be Undesirable Number One, this wasn't nearly as hard as I thought it would be." This Death Eater had a pronounced accent - probably from the Southwest. Not that it mattered much.

"Well, the Ministry's never been known for having the sharpest knives in the drawer," Harry replied just as coolly.

"This time there are five of us, and you're alone," the second replied. "Now we're going to interrogate and," she coughed, "debrief you, one way or the other, but the people who took out the remainder of our first response, who are they?"

"Don't know," Harry shrugged. "Could be some of the bloods in this town don't cotton that kindly to having their territory invaded."

"It doesn't matter," the alpha Death Eater replied. "Eventually, the Dark Lord will take care of them."

A small smile crossed Harry's face. "You really don't know what your boss is up to, do you?"

The look they exchanged did seem to indicate that they were a bit clueless as to this. "The Dark Lord's plan are not our concern," the second Death Eater said. "What matters is we captured Harry Potter, and we didn't even have to get our hands dirty."

"Only two things wrong with that. First," Harry rubbed his hands in a way that few wizards would, "you're going to get your hands dirty."

"What else?" The wizards reached for their wands, which led them to a major surprise, where Harry abruptly did a scissors kick and knocked a wand out of one of the others hands.

"I ain't Harry Potter, dumbass," 'Harry' replied before knocking the second Death Eater back with a roundhouse that would've KO'd George Foreman.

Had the Death Eaters been more experienced or known anything about current events, they might have been able to still at least stun the person in front of them, perform an Imperius Curse, and get a better idea of where Harry Potter actually was. If they'd been at least a little better warned about Sunnydale, they might even have been able to reason out who they were fighting, and have responded accordingly.

However - and Faith had been eerily prescient when she'd described this part of the plan to Harry - they were not thinking at all. Fundamentally, wizards were not that different from the average vampire or demon, in that they didn't expect anything after the first part of their plan worked. They were too busy trying to mentally rewire their brains to counterattack, and this would invariably lead to them getting their asses kicked.

They didn't think; they simply reacted. And while they were still trying to deal with a Harry Potter who apparently had the moves of your average UFC competitor, "Faith" emerged from the shadows, where 'she' had been waiting

Harry had been relieved that Faith favored quasi-masculine attire. Even though he'd used Polyjuice Potion in the past, he had never tried disguising himself as a member of the opposite sex. Hermione had offered to go in his stead, but Willow had admitted that she needed her brains to help figure out the next part of the heist they were planning.

So, focusing his attention on the attackers (and desperately trying not to think about certain parts of him which had been transfigured) 'Faith' fired a series of "Expellimarius!" spells into the already panicky Death Eaters, one of whom was seriously getting his clock cleaned by... him.

"I really don't like it when people threaten my friends," 'Harry' said, whirling on the once and no longer alpha Death Eater, "and I'm not that big on the average criminal either!"

After saying those last two words, 'Harry' heaved the death eater through the already broken window.

"Sorry," 'Harry' said quietly to 'Faith', "but I think you can pretty much kiss your deposit goodbye."

"Were you planning to leave this motel _standing?" _There was genuine curiosity in 'his' voice - he still wasn't sure what this Slayer was capable of.

It was rare to see an expression on your own face that you couldn't identify. "The day is young," was all 'Harry' would say. And then they had no more time to react, because the three Death Eaters who were still capable of moving under their own power resumed their spell casting.

Even while all this was happening, there was a part of Harry that was enjoying the violence and chaos. Faith had told him that she seemed to get a charge fighting demons and monsters. Harry, who'd been doing it slightly longer, and at a much younger age, had never taken any thrills in at all. How could you get excited when the possibility that death was imminent? But it clearly wasn't bothering Faith, and her mood was infectious.

The smart move for the remaining Death Eaters would have been to apparate anywhere but here, but none of them seemed able to think straight. Apparently, this particular brand of ass kicking was not something they were used to, and now the other part of "fight or flight" wasn't occurring to them. Faith had no intention of giving them time to consider it. It was still working for them, because in a matter of minutes, Harry was able to stun two of them into semi-consciousness.

Finally, they were down to one wizard who looked to be on the verge of soiling himself. Before Harry could cast a spell, Faith slammed her fist into his gut, and when he doubled over, she grabbed him by the balls. Just seeing it was enough to make him almost feel sorry for a Death Eater.

Almost.

"Obliviate the sonofabitch," 'Faith ordered.

Now was not the time to tell 'himself' that this had always been a tricky spell for him. However, he had a feeling these wizards would not be that hard to override. In a matter of two minutes, all the Death Eaters were under his control.

"Now listen very carefully, 'cause you don't want me to repeat myself," 'Faith told him, barely raising her voice above a whisper. "This town is off limits to you Death Eaters. This little ass-whupping I just handed you, for me, it was the equivalent of getting warmed up. Your Dark Lord sends any more wizards here for any reason, I will truss their asses like they were Thanksgiving turkeys, and send them out to the nearest nest, ringing a little bell. And if Moldywart gets the idea that he can just handle this particular berg by himself, you be sure to tell him that this is a _two_-Slayer town, and this particular can of whoop-ass was opened by the _less _-experienced Slayer. He doesn't need to deal with this particular shit, got it?"

The Death Eater nodded his head as eagerly as if a nervous puppeteer was handling it.

"Now get the fuck out before I reconsider my generosity," Faith whispered. Harry had trouble hearing this, but the wizards had none. Less than a minute after she finished her statement, all of them had finished disapparating.

By the time the last pop had finished, Faith was looking through the room for the bag of goodies that had started this entire sojourn. Harry was far less serene. There was electricity in the air, and he was pretty sure it wasn't all from the recent blasts of magic.

Which just seemed to show what he knew, because less than a minute later, there was a popping sound, and the effects of the Polyjuice potion- diluted down due to the limited materials Hermione'd had from the start- had just worn off.

Harry barely noticed this, apart from his immense gratitude that the one part of him that he had been most afraid of losing before this little excursion was back- and working just fine.

Suddenly all of the problems that they'd had on this journey seemed very far away, and the memory of kissing Ginny Weasley seemed like a dream.

Faith apparently felt the same way. "Remember when I said a good Slay left me hungry and horny?" she told him.

"Kind of stood out," Harry replied.

"I ain't hungry."

Harry wasn't sure who made the first move- him or her- and he didn't care. All of a sudden, he and Faith were locked in an embrace, Their hands darted around, cupping, pressing, stroking targets underneath their clothing like they were being choreographed.

"This is a bad idea," Harry said when they came up for air.

"Very likely," Faith replied.

"Nothing good can come of this."

Faith actually seemed to consider this for a second. "You care?" she finally asked.

Harry answered by crushing his mouth to hers again. Faith responded by trying to all but mount him against the wall. Unfortunately, this only worked in movies, and the two collapsed against it.

"You've never done this before," It wasn't a question.

Harry just nodded. "Is that going to be a problem?"

Faith heaved him into the bed with such vigor he was amazed it didn't splinter at the effort. "And you thought your time in Sunnydale was memorable before," she said as she peeled off her clothes.

_We're in the middle of a crisis of epic proportion, the fate of the world may be at hand, and all I care about is losing my virginity _went through Harry's mind. Then Faith finished undressing. _On the other hand, if the world does end, I may never get a better chance._

Harry decided to stop thinking just for a while, and be in the moment.

He might have second-guessed his efforts had he known what was happening at the city line, not half a mile away.

A Plymouth Fury was driving into Sunnydale. The previous two times, it had plowed into the 'Welcome to Sunnydale' sign- the first time on purpose, the second because it's driver had been absolutely hammered. This time, having been warned of the need for greater subtlety, Spike actually slowed down when he drove by it. The police in this town were complete morons, but if what Riddle had told him turned out to be on the level, there was no need to alert their boss to his presence.

So the Mayor of Sunnydale was a heavy, and judging from how nervous Tom had been when he'd mentioned dealing with them, he was a pretty big bad in his own right. Of course, if certain dates were to be believed, the Mayor'd begun consolidating his power back when Spike had killed his first Slayer. And considering the free-for-alls that had been going on the first time he and Dru had come to Sunnydale, the Mayor had seemed remarkably unconcerned about what they'd been doing- including Acathla. But then, Tommy Boy had to have known about it as well, and he had similarly done jack shit.

In the hundred and eighteen years - fuck, it was going to be nineteen in less than seven hours- Spike had managed to stay a force in the undead circles, for two reasons. First, he'd never made an effort to destroy the world. Second, he had stayed out of territorial disputes. Well, he'd violated his first rule last February, and he was now returning to Sunnydale about to piss all over the second. Not to mention that this was a town where his ass had gotten kicked repeatedly, and his relationship with Dru had nearly self-destructed. A more reflexive vampire might wonder whether this was a particularly self-destructive part of his nature.

They would've been doing the same thing that Slayers and the Anointed One alike had done time and time again - seriously underestimating him. He'd listened to Tommy's little schpiel, and while there had been some minor variations, it was clear that the time he'd spent dead had not caused him to change much. Riddle thought he'd come close enough to winning the last time to run the exact same plays all over again, and win. So he was this close to running the magical world. That and a pound would buy him a cup of tea. He didn't have the manpower to win, and he was too focused on smaller goals to realize the larger flaws. Reality would end up crushing him, and probably without any additional influence.

The Mayor didn't seem to be much different. Just because he'd built Sunnydale for demons to feed on, and he was this close to getting his payday, didn't mean there weren't serious flaws in his makeup. Riddle had made grandiose claims that the Mayor didn't see the bigger picture (and if that wasn't the pot calling the kettle black), and the fact that he had caused more significant crises in the last couple of years would seem to indicate that was true. The Mayor thought that because he controlled Sunnydale, the rest of the world would be a snap- that was the same stupid thinking Riddle was using.

Spike had never been much of the 'sit back and let other people fight' school- when he wasn't fighting, he was bored- but for once he was thinking about letting this particular tape play out a little. These two might think themselves to be King Kong and Godzilla, but letting these two monsters whale on each other for awhile seemed like it could be... productive. And the idea that Tom Riddle could 'handle' a Slayer - it had taken an amount of restraint he hadn't known he was capable of not to burst out laughing at this. Can handle a Slayer? Bloke couldn't handle a fucking toddler!

The very fact that Riddle had come to him and Dru- when they knew he considered them the magical equivalent of white trash - meant that his plans were already starting to spin out of control. Spike would bet any amount of money that the Mayor was planning things the exact same way. And neither seemed willing to take the Slayer into consideration, which he knew from personal experience was a huge mistake. Riddle might not be able to be killed, but he knew this bloke could get hurt, and seeing him getting whaled on by a Slater - that alone would be worth the trip.

So, even though taking the passive approach was usually the last thing that he would do, sitting back and watching this would probably provide better entertainment then that Telemundo he'd been seeing for the last month.

"Feeding time."

Spike briefly turned his attention to Dru, who had spent the majority of this trip the same way she'd spent their first visit - in a psychic daze. Up until now, she hadn't said a word.

"Who's eating, luv?" Spike asked.

"All sorts," Drusilla was whispering. "Snakes, preparing to swallow themselves. Only to be eaten by the lions. And the lions are hungry."

Spike knew enough magic talk to know that there was some relevance to the magic houses. It didn't answer the question that they were most interested in. "What about the boy that has old Tom's knickers in a twist? He anywhere to be found?"

Dru began humming a little. "The lightning will be nearby. Waiting to strike," She frowned. "But something is masking him. I can't see him clearly."

Spike frowned. Tom had been very interested in Dru's visions. There was some prophecy that had been written about Tom the first time hed come into power. But Tom had refused to say what it was, after it had gotten him killed. He had asked Dru in particular, but he had kept the two apart - he knew how mercurial both could be, and he didn't want Dru to get hurt. He'd thought the part about masking had been playacting on his love's part. Now he was beginning to wonder otherwise.

'Is he here?"

He didn't expect a coherent response, which is why her next words came as a surprise. "He will be," Dru smiled. "Before the stroke of twelve he will strike against the snake twice, and both blows will cut deep."

"So finally I'm going to get a look at the Boy who Lived," A smile crossed the bleached vampire's face. "This little jaunt's already sounding like it's going to be worth our time."

"I'm not going to say it hasn't been seven minutes in heaven, but we have to get going."

Harry didn't know how much time had passed, and for the first time in nearly forever, he really didn't care. Crashing back to reality was not something he'd thought he'd be able to do.

"HP? Ground control to Major Magic, we gotta get moving..."

Harry managed to look and saw Faith dressing. "One of these days, you're going to have to explain to me these references you keep making."

"You and your friends really did live a bubble during your formative years, didn't you?" Faith was actually smiling a little.

"On the plus side, the pictures in our hallways move," Harry replied. "And the chocolate's a lot better."

"These wizarding schools sound like a kick," Faith's expression changed subtly. "Shame I never got to go to one."

Harry knew that in a matter of moments he would begin snapping back to reality. but he wanted to maintain the mood a little longer. "Work's a lot harder. And they pretty much insist that your homework has to be written on parchment with a quill."

"Nothing's perfect in this world. I learned that early." The Slayer actually managed to sigh. "Looks like I'm going to have to play the bad cop in this little story."

Reality was about to snap back. Harry decided he might as well face it fully clothed, and began to find where he had tossed everything. "Faith, I know you think that because of where I came from and who I am that you were taking advantage of me."

Faith raised an eyebrow. "I do remember whose tongue went into whose mouth first." She tried a more serious tone. "Harry, we were both keyed up from the fight. We're literally in a life-or-death struggle every single minute. We both got a lot of issues feeling chosen."

"I'm aware of all that," Harry realized this conversation was going to be awkward, and that he was going to be at a further disadvantage because he was pretty sure he couldn't wipe the smile off his face. "I never wanted to make a lot of the decisions that I had to make, but I've accepted all of them. And," he held up a hand, "this was the easiest one I've had in a very long time."

"You're a teenage boy," Faith tried to keep a light tone, but there was already a bit of pain in her voice. "Any guy, given the choice of getting some, will take it."

"Maybe, but I chose to have sex with you," Harry replied. "And I don't regret it, even if you think that you should."

"You want to know something crazy?" She kept the joking tone in her voice, but Harry could tell that she was serious. "I don't regret it either. And I'm the type who should know better."

"Look, we've got a lot big stuff ahead of us tonight," Harry told her. "How about we revisit this as soon as we finish the heist?"

By now, they had both finished dressing. Faith was walking over to the bag of goodies which had survived the struggles of the last two hours intact.

"All right, but remember, I get in a lot of fights. We might be in this situation a lot sooner than you think."

"I look forward to it."

Faith dropped him a roguish wink. "I might not be fighting next to you next time."

That stupid smirk was going to be impossible to hide from Hermione and Ron. Harry found out he didn't really care about that. He also realized something far more important.

Being with Faith had taken the worry of Voldemort away from him for the first time in months. The day was full of possibilities, and the night hadn't even begun yet.

If only he'd known who he'd be seeing that night.


	13. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

Faith and Harry had pre-arranged a meeting point before they'd left for the motel, but due to their unscheduled 'pit stop', they didn't arrive until about half an hour after sunset. Buffy, who seemed to be more tightly wound with each successive obstacle, was not happy about this.

"I was beginning to wonder if they'd set another ambush," she told them.

"They did," Faith told her. "We stopped it. But you're right. Voldemort has to have an inkling what's going on now. He might just have been sending in his second-stringers before. He won't make the same mistake again."

"If he was, Sunnydale would be flooded with Death Eaters tonight," Ron countered. "The Dark Lord has never been big on subtlety."

"Still wouldn't rule it out," Harry countered. "Which means we need to get this done now, and right." He took out the bag of magical gadgets they'd been hanging on to ever since their attack on the ministry. "Is Willow ready to move?"

"See that telephone over there?" Buffy pointed, before looking at her watch. "In about two minutes, it's going to ring. On the third ring, Willow's going to cut the power for the block. She's done the calculation. We have maybe five minutes before the emergency power comes on. We have to use that opportunity to get inside and figure out where these goblets are."

"That takes care of the mechanics." Ron said. "What about the magic?"

"That's going to be your department. Which is why you'll need this."

Buffy took out a device Harry couldn't identify - black and bulky, nearly the size of a headband.

"What the hell is that?" Faith echoed his opinion.

"Electronic transmitter. Compliments of Xander's Halloween stint. It'll connect you with our Brain trust."That was Buffy's nickname for Hermione, Giles and Willow. "Willow's going to be tapping into the closed circuit feed. The three of them will hopefully be able to overcome whatever other obstacles they've set up."

Faith frowned a little at this. "We even sure that there's going to be some kind of old black magic?" she asked. "Far as we know, nobody in town knows how important these are."

"No, but Voldemort does," Harry pointed out. "And he will have made some kind of fallback to protect the Horcrux. Hopefully, our friends will be able to get us through this."

Faith didn't say so, but Harry knew that this was a pretty big 'if'.

"We have to do this fast and right, guys," Buffy told them. "There's no way we can get through this without causing a mess. Only thing we can do is limit the damage."

"Where's the fun in that?" Faith asked, before holding up her hand. "All right, I got it."

Buffy looked at her watch. "This is the cleanest method,."

Harry asked. "Waiting for the phone to ring?"

"Says the man who gets his information from owls," Buffy reminded him.

And at that moment, the phone began to ring.

"Show time." Buffy turned to them. "Like we discussed- Ron, you and Faith are handling security. Harry, you're with me."

The time for arguing was past. Harry was a little surprised that he wasn't more nervous. Then again, he was starting to get used to both Slayers' confidence

Before the lights went out, he looked back at Faith, who tipped him another roguish wink as she ran off with Ron.

_Those poor bastards guarding this place aren't going to know what hit them _Harry thought as they ran to the path of least resistance. "Where's Angel going to meet us?"

"There's a manhole that leads into the adjoining pipeline," Buffy replied. "He said that he'd be handling the first of the guards."

A remark about how fitting it was for a rat like Angel to know the sewers so well crossed Harry's mind, but he clamped down on it. He realized the vampire was something of a blind spot for Buffy, and, at any rate, he was risking his safety to essentially do them a favor. Best not to bite the hand that feeds you - so to speak.

The block had been dark for less than a minute when Buffy stopped running. She held up her hand and made a stay put motion. Harry hadn't realized that nocturnal vision came with the Slayer package.

She stayed still for a moment, then motioned Harry along. He was still adjusting his eyes to the darkness when he heard the sounds of punches connecting with muscle. Just from being around Faith, he knew enough to stay out of her way until the fighting was over. By his estimation, it took less than ten seconds for her to knock the guard unconscious.

"Little light would be nice," she whispered.

Harry cast the Lumos spell, and saw that Buffy was going through the guards' pockets. A moment later, she found what she was looking for - a small piece of plastic, rectangular in shape.

"This is where all those spy movies better pay off," Buffy said quietly.

Harry, whose TV exposure at the Dursleys was limited, didn't have a clue as to what she was talking about. He had no time to ask because it seemed like a dim light flickered, and he could see again. The back-up power had come on. It also meant their timetable had accelerated.

Buffy didn't seemed phased at all. She walked over to the doorway, looking for- something. Apparently, she found it, for she slid the plastic through a similarly shaped slot. A red bulb turned green, and suddenly Harry realized what it was - some kind of electronic key.

"Humanity. We bring good things to life," Buffy told them.

"Technically speaking, that was the easy part."

Despite everything that he had experienced over the last few years, it took a considerable amount of effort for Harry not to jump into the air. Even in the abrupt quiet, he still hadn't heard Angel approach. "You're saying that any part of this is _easy?" _he demanded instead

"Well, it's not going to be much fun," Buffy didn't seem particularly disturbed either. "In any case, you're on. Got your cloak with you?"

. Harry was going to be using his Invisibility Cloak to get around the cameras, while Angel would be going in to avoid the body heat sensors that the place was wired with. The cameras wouldn't see either of them, and the guards watching from somewhere else in the warehouse wouldn't be able to tell what was going on, until it was too late.

Hopefully.

Harry made sure the bulky contraption was attached to his ear before he donned the cloak. This was the one part of the plan that worried him. Usually the cloak covered up everything the wearer had on, but he didn't know how it would react to Muggle technology. At the very least, he wished the damn thing wasn't so hard to manage.

"Um, testing, testing-" he said awkward, never feeling less like a Muggle.

There was a squeal of feedback loud enough for him to jump back. "Sorry about that, Harry," Willow said sheepishly. "But you're coming through fine."

"Do you have a picture of the inside?" he whispered.

"I've tapped into the feed," Willow replied. "It should be streaming in-and, we're live. Let's just hope you don't need that much help."

Harry hoped the same, but he wasn't betting on it.

"Be safe, and try not to take too long," Buffy was trying to look where Harry had been, but the cloak was giving her trouble, so finally she shifted her attention to Angel. "I realize the two may be exclusive, but still-"

"We'll be careful," Angel cut her off in a way that none of the Gryffindor would have dared use on either Slayer. This was the advantage of being undead and the Slayer's boyfriend, Harry guessed. "You do the same."

Buffy managed a smile before she walked away.

Angel opened the door, and made a gesture in Harry's direction. Even knowing everything he did about the vampire, it took a lot more effort than Harry thought to go in without looking behind him.

_Hey, at least you're sure he can't see your neck. _Harry didn't like this thought- it was unusually childish- then shrugged it off.

Considering all of the effort that they were making to break in, the interior of the warehouse was something of a disappointment. There were cameras in all four corners of the building, and there looked to be a lot of electronics on the wall, but it didn't look particularly difficult to get through.

Then Harry saw the number of the crates that were around, nailed or sealed shut- and realized they had no idea where to start looking. Well, this is what the headpiece was for.

"Stupid question," he asked. "Do you see anything that resembles a set of goblets?"

There was a definite pause. "You didn't expect for them to just _leave _them out there, did you?" Hermione ended up asking. "Willow's going through the inventory as we speak."

"Dumber question: you really don't think that they're going to be labeled Hogwarts Cups, do you?"

There was a longer pause, during which Harry could definitely make out some loud whispering. Apparently, this hadn't occurred to the brain trust. But Harry decided to give them a break- he had beaten their reasoning by all of one minute.

"We're working on it," Willow finally whispered.

Harry looked at the cameras. He knew that no human could see past the cloak. But he'd lived in the Muggle world, and he knew they could do some pretty marvelous things with cameras. And then there was the realization that even they _couldn't _see him, he was generating body heat.

He tried not to let nervousness enter his voice. "Work faster," was all he could say.

Time seemed to stretch in a way it hadn't back at the motel. Harry was nevertheless surprised when he checked the clock and after just two minutes, Willow was back on the line. "According to the manifest, the material that was most recently transferred from the museum is located in a crate labeled A784."

Harry repeated the numbers to Angel, and they began to search the warehouse: Harry, the eastern side; Angel the west. The numbers were stamped very clearly on the boxes- after all, the curators wanted to make this part easy. And after less than a minute, Angel found what he was looking for.

Unfortunately, they then ran into their second snag of the night. Harry took out a crystal, which Hermione had modified to detect any sign of magical energy. However, before it could do that, it paid for itself, - when he moved in,a series of red lines suddenly appeared surrounding the box.

"What the hell is that?" Harry demanded.

"Well, now we know how our parents taxes are being spent, " Willow replied.

"Excuse me?"

"Not having had a soldier share my head, I'm not a hundred percent certain, but I'm pretty sure that these are some kind of modified electronic security. Touch one of those beams, and something pretty bad is going to happen." Willow replied . "And since this is Sunnydale, bad could have connotations it wouldn't have in Fort Knox."

"Tell me that there's a way around this," Angel wanted to know.

"There is, but you're not going to like it much," Willow hesitated, then described the process.

Harry didn't know enough about the kind of movies that Buffy and her friends watched, but knowing that the plan came from one of them wouldn't have boosted his confidence. Angel had a better idea what Willow was talking about, and he still thought that it was crazy. Unfortunately, he also knew that it was probably the best solution they had. "Let's get this over with," he told Harry. "And try not to set me on fire."

Biting down on an insolent urge that said he could do it if he wanted to anyway, Harry followed through. Casting a Reflexor spell at the exact locations using the crystals as his guide, in less than two minutes he had managed to redirect enough of the lasers so that there was a gap sizable enough for a man to crawl through.

As Angel prepared to crouch, Harry couldn't resist a parting shot: "Try not to set yourself on fire- til you get the box through."

There was no reaction from the vampire. Harry was beginning to think Angel went through his life with that broody scowl on his face.

Still, the vampire managed to get under the gap without even having to squeeze that hard. And he managed to lift up a crate that would have staggered three normal sized men.

Once Angel had it over his head, Harry carefully cast a Levarvosa spell, and ever so carefully floated it into the air, until he realized he had no idea where exactly was a good place to put it.

"Um, shouldn't you put it down?" Willow whispered.

"You mind telling me where?" Harry whispered, trying not to notice that for some reason, it was causing him a great deal of strain to keep this thing airborne.

He had to wait another long minute until Willow finally guided him to a small gap about ten feet from the entrance. He finally managed to land it.

"Is there any sign of the enemy?" Angel demanded.

"Not yet, but don't let this prevent you from getting this done right," Willow replied.

Hermione had agreed with Willow that their entire purpose for doing this would be defeated if the museum guides knew what was missing. Therefore, they decided to do a variation on what they had done with the Horcrux that Umbridge had possessed. It was going to be a little more difficult, but Harry and Ron had thought that they could get it done.

So, very carefully, he and Angel removed the lid, which gave them surprisingly little difficulty. Then, however, he saw why they'd had so much trouble with it. The crate was full of artifacts, most of them jeweled with silver and gold.

"Please tell me that somewhere in the electronic list, there is a picture of what we're looking for," Harry said into the earpiece.

At that moment, Hermione came on the line. "No, but we have the next best thing," she told them. "Going through some of Mr. Giles' tomes, we located several illustrations of what the cup would look like. Go through the crate, and hold up whatever you find. I'll identify it through the camera."

There seemed something very reckless about this idea, but the constraints of time forced them to move forward regardless. They moved very swiftly through the case.

Fortunately, they eventually found the thing. Unfortunately, it nearly spelled their doom.

After a couple of minutes, Harry found a little golden cup. It had a badger carved into it, and the symbol of Ravenclaw: the eagle. But just as Harry was picking it up, it grew hot, so quickly, that he had to drop it in agony. Before it hit the ground, it split and became a shower of goblets. In a matter of seconds, they covered the floor; all identical, and the original impossible to discern.

"Oh, no," Hermione whispered in dismay.

"Don't say that," Harry said, still nursing his blistered fingers.

"They seem to have added Gemino and Flagrante Curses," Hermione replied. "Touch any of them, it will burn and replicate, but the copies are worthless. And if you keep handling the treasure-"

"I think we can pretty much forget about getting out of here unseen," Angel replied grimly.

"You're going to have a lot more to worry about than that," Willow got back on the line. "They found one of the guards Faith waylaid. Any minute the cops are going to be breaking down the door."

Harry looked at Angel. "I thought the police in this town were monumentally incompetent," he replied.

"You really want to stick around and find out?" Angel asked.

"I am not leaving without this cup," Harry repeated. "Willow, please tell me there's a way to work around this."

"First things first: get as far from the gold as you can," Willow demanded. "Let's not make a terrible situation worse."

Harry and Angel didn't need any second bidding. "How do we identify the cup?" she asked.

There was a very long pause, more than a minute. "Willow, we don't particularly want to-"

"Put Angel on the line," Willow told them in a forceful tone Reluctantly, Harry removed his headpiece. If Angel was surprised to see it extending from nowhere, he suppressed it. He took it.

"Angel, I want you to find the fourth cup from your right, but I don't want you to try and grab it yet, " Willow ordered.

"Are you sure that's the Horcrux?" Harry demanded.

"Am I positive? No. But according to the thermal scan, it's the only one of those goblets that i_sn't_ generating heat."

"All right, but how do I get it without creating Midas' wet dream?" Angel asked.

"You ever see one of those mechanical cranes used to win prizes at an arcade?" Willow asked. Both Angel and Harry's faces must have registered a blank, because she hurried on. "There's a long stick on the other side of the room. One of you is going to have to use it to try and grab one of the handles. Get as close as you can without grabbing any of the other cups."

"I'd better do it," Angel replied. Before Harry could put up any resistance, the vampire added. "I've got the steadier hands, and if I end up touching it, it's not going to hurt me as much as it would you."

Harry thought that given enough time, he could probably levitate the Horcrux out without touching the others. However, Willow then added: "And, uh, not to put any additional pressure on you guys, but according to 911, the cops are less than five minutes out."

"Where the hell are Buffy and Faith?" Harry demanded. It was a valid question, considering he hadn't heard anything out of them since they had entered the building.

"You really want to end this night trying to explain to the Sunnydale PD what the hell we were doing here?" Willow whispered.

Angel's answer to the argument was to grab the 'claw' and start looking for a position that gave him the cleanest opportunity to grab the Horcrux.

The next two minutes seemed to last half an hour. Angel finally decided on an appropriate crate on which to stand. Then with the artistry of a cat burglar, he managed to lower the staff until it was just above the handle.

There was a horrible moment when he accidentally banged the stick against its nearest neighbor, but apparently the Gemino curse only reacted to the touch of flesh. Finally, Angel managed to very gently dislodge the cup and hold it.

But before they could breathe a sigh of relief, they heard the very unwelcome sound of sirens.

"Oh crap," Willow whispered.

Angel's mind, however, was working a lot faster than Willow's. "Harry, put the cloak over you and run as fast as you can out the back door."

"What about you?" Harry's first concern was for the Horcrux, but as much as he disliked the vampire, he didn't particularly want him to end up in a holding cell with dawn approaching.

"I've got a plan. Granted, it's a very dangerous one, but it's still a plan," Angel told him. "Besides, it's not the cops I'm worried about."

"What are-"

"Go!" Angel ordered.

Reluctantly, Harry took off to the back. The last thing he saw before he left was Angel heading towards the copies of the fake goblets.

And then when he was outside, he realized they had a whole new set of problems.

The police were there, and they seemed to be in the process of establishing a blockade. Despite himself, Harry was worried until he remembered that the cops couldn't see him. Nevertheless, it took a surprising amount of willpower for him not to break into a run.

Instead, he very carefully slowed his pace, and walked around the barrier, trying to be even quieter than a mouse. He was therefore considerably alarmed when there was a buzz from what appeared to be three radios at once.

"We've got a problem at the front!" It was hard to tell over the buzzes, but the voices seemed to be panicked and in pain. "All units approach front but do not enter the building. I repeat-"

With a sense of real horror, Harry realized what Angel had to have done. By charging through the front with complete disregard for his own safety, the Gemino curse had probably flooding the front entrance. The police were now trying to enter, and making what could be a bad situation perhaps irreversible.

He tried not to think of the Muggle police being overwhelmed by a situation even working in this city couldn't have prepared them for. For an instant, he felt that they needed to do something before the town was overrun with gold. And then he realized that this was another situation that was beyond his control. They had the goblet. Now they had to get out of here.. Everything else was not their problem. Besides, the dispersal of the cops in that direction made it a lot easier for him to make his way through the police tape.

Slowly, he finished getting around the tape and through the other side. He was just beginning to think that the worst might be over when he heard a new voice. "Come out, come out, wherever you are."

He froze dead in his tracks, trying to see where the speaker was coming from. Then he saw a red dot appear on his chest, rising until it moved out of his line of sight – it must have been up where his forehead was.

"Nice little trick that you've been pulling. What is it, some kind of invisibility spell?" The speaker chuckled. "Man, you wizards are worse than some of those vampires. You are aware that this is the twentieth century? Your spells and wands might have had us lost back in the day, but technology's come a long way since then."

Now two other red dots joined the first, moving up to the same area.

"I always wondered whether these invisibility spells stopped when the wizard died." Suddenly the voice grew a lot more serious. "Well, unless you reverse it by the time I count to three, we're going to find out."

That was not the voice of someone who bluffed.

"One- two- thr-"

Harry pulled down the hood of his invisibility cloak, trying as hard as he could not to let his hands shake. _Buffy, Faith,_ _where the hell are you? _

"Shit, you're a damn teenager," There was amusement in his voice. "You're not going to spin me a tale that this is some kind of wizard fraternity prank, are you?"

Harry found his voice. "Why don't you come out and deal with me face to face, instead of hiding behind whatever weapons you're using?" he said loudly.

"Kid's got balls, I'll give him that,."

Harry had not thought that his challenger would come out and face him, so he was surprised when a few seconds later, a young black man in his twenties walked down the street and stood just about ten feet from him.

"And a kid who's caused this much trouble deserves to see the face of the vamp who's gonna ice him."

Without thinking, Harry removed his wand and called out "_Incendio!"_

He had just enough time to realize how stupid he'd been, then wonder how come he hadn't been shot at, and how come this vampire hadn't so much as flinched.

Then his flames touched the vampire's sportscoat- and just died.

"See, the modern vampire has friends," the vampire continue, not looking even put out by what Harry had just tried to do, "and those friends go to, well, let's call them, very special tailors. This particular outfit is magic resistant. By all means, cast spells to your heart's content. "

Then the vampire's face shifted. "Not that I'm going to let you."

"That makes two of us."

What happened next was hard to visualize given the position Harry was in, but a moment the black vampire doubled over, and he saw that Buffy had chosen the perfect time to reenter.

The vampire was not flummoxed for long. "Her, you can shoot!"

As Harry realized that he was being trailed by the same people who had 'saved' him from the battalion of Death Eaters less than a week ago, the air was filled with gunshots. He had just enough time to get a _Protego _spell up before Buffy began her bobbing and weaving, apparently no more bother by the gunfire than a swarm of mosquitoes.

"We've never been properly introduced," Buffy replied. "You're Trick, the guy who put together Slayerfest '98. I don't think I ever thanked you for sending a team of assassins after us!"

"Who do you think I have working with me now?" Trick replied coolly. "And believe me, I always come prepared for these kinds of dances."

"Run," Buffy ordered Harry.

It was definitely sensible advice, especially against what might well be an army of vampires privy to the world of magic, sniper teams, and God knew what else. But Harry could no more leave Buffy and Faith behind then they would've been able to. Not if he was capable of helping.

He tried to get a visual on whoever the hell was shooting at him, by casting a Lumos spell before he realized that these particular shooters could be well out of the line of sight. The spell did, however, do something useful. It revealed there were a lot more vampires than just Trick around.

_Are the cops here really that blind? _Harry had time to think before they swooped in on him.

_Stupefy! _The magic word was repeated three times. Harry had wondered where the hell Ron had been hiding until then.

"Were you planning on waiting until they had their teeth in my neck?" Harry demanded.

"No, just until the cavalry arrived," Ron told him. "Speaking of which..."

Faith chose that moment to reappear with a stake in her hand, and do a complete turn in a half. "Bang," she staked the first stunned vampire, "Bang," she got the second, "and, did I mention, bang!" and there went the last one.

The snipers didn't seem the least bit alarmed by any of this, and retaliated by, once more, filling the air with gunfire. If anything, there seemed to be more of it then before. For the first time, Harry considered the possibility that maybe the police were the people shooting at them. He couldn't imagine any other force that could get away with this kind of shooting, even with the force field of blindness that seemed to surround all of Sunnydale.

"I think we should _leave _now!" Harry yelled at Ron and Faith.

Ron nodded enthusiastically at this idea, but Faith did not seem quite as disturbed by the chaos around them "I don't know about you, but I'm not going anywhere until I get some goddamn answers!" she told them.

Harry then looked at Trick and Buffy, who despite all the chaos around them, had not even glanced up from their personal grudge match. "And you think this vampire has them?" he demanded as he and his friends ducked behind a dumpster.

"This guy worked for Kakistos, and has already done some next level shit in the past two months," Faith told them. "But he's a number two guy. He didn't just show up here because of a break-in at a warehouse. Somebody's pulling his strings."

Buffy might be the number-one slayer in this town, but she was barely holding even with this Trick guy. Harry figured two Slayers would be enough to do him in, but that would actually be overkill for what they wanted. And if that anti-magic suit really was what was keeping him protected, knocking him down was going to be a problem.

Or was it? Harry had an idea of his own. In a matter of seconds, he spelled out the basics, and he knew he was becoming inured to the Sunnydale style of thinking, because Faith gave a wicked smile when she heard it. "Just watch where you aim," was her only contribution.

"You know, I gotta tell you, for all the talk I've heard, you've been kind of a disappointment," Trick was saying. "Probably going give me an upset stomach. Oh well, maybe your friend'll be more of a challenge-"

And at that moment, Harry and Ron cast two 'Reflecto' spells on the area just in front of the dumpster. The snipers, who hadn't even slowed their fire, hit the shield, and their last three rounds, went right into Trick, two in the stomach, one in the chest.

"Shit," Trick muttered before he hit the ground, "I'm going to be feeling this in the morning."

As Buffy had explained to them a few days earlier, bullets couldn't kill vampires, but they could still cause a tremendous amount of pain. Before Trick managed to recover his strength, Faith was standing over him, poised to put the stake where it could do the most damage.

"I see anybody even trying to take potshots at any of my friends, and your boy becomes so much dust in the wind," she yelled.

"Watch... who you call... boy," Trick managed to get out.

"Not a good idea to get all PC with a Slayer prepared to put a stake through your heart," Faith told him. Now she spared a look for her fellow Slayer. "You OK, B?"

"I've had better nights," Buffy admitted. "Seeing him laid out flat is helping my mood. You sure he's worth keeping, you know, whole?"

"We've got questions. This guy can answer them," Faith said flatly.

"Then I think we'd better get the hell out of here before his friends regain their nerve," Buffy looked up to see Harry and Ron. "We get what we came for?"

"You see Angel?" Harry asked in turn.

Faith nodded. "Caught him tearing ass out of here, leading the cops on a merry chase. Said that he'd meet up with us back at his place later. Of course for him, late is our early."

"Whatever it is, I think we should be leaving before the, um, enemy regains his nerve," Ron pointed out. "The two of you can make it out of here, you know, carrying that?"

Faith's answer to this was to heave a man who was at least twice her body weight over her shoulder like she was carrying a backpack. "Any more dumb questions?" she asked.

"Just one," Buffy now sounded a little concerned again. "Can you keep a handle on him while getting through _them?"_

She then pointed to the end of the alley that the three of them had been hiding out in. Apparently, the enemy had taken advantage of the sniper fire to form a demonic barrier.

"They never learn, do they?" Faith replied. "Harry, would you and Ron mind watching our friend? Stupefy him if you have to."

She then threw Trick down so hard, it would've broken bones on a normal person. Harry wasn't sure that hadn't happened anyway, and frankly, wasn't that worried about it.

It was the sudden and rather too timely appearance of these vampires that bothered him. He had no doubt that the Slayers could reduce them to dust without any problems. And they had to know that they were marching into a suicide box. Something wasn't right.

"Ron," Harry turned to his best friend. "You smell a rat?"

"Pretty sure that it's gunpowder," Ron apparently had inherited his elder brothers tendency to make jokes about anything, "but yeah, something stinks about this."

Suddenly there was a loud pop. Just one. It could have been the sound of another gunshot, but Harry knew it was not. He waited for others, but the sudden silence was deafening. Apparently, Voldemort hadn't learned from what had happened to his last set of flunkies. Or maybe he had, and this was just a scout.

"You've caused a real mess for my master."

Harry knew that voice. Knew it all too well. And while even a week ago, staring down Bellatrix would have been a terrifying prospect, now she seemed far less frightening. Hell, maybe it was Faith's influence, but after everything that had happened already tonight, he felt up for a fight.

"So now it's you," Harry actually maintained complete calm when he turned around. "I never thought that the Dark Lord was such a slow learner. But then I never realized what a small fish he was before I came here."

"You will pay for your insolence," Bellatrix seemed less nervous at hearing him insult Voldemort then she had been the last time they'd met.

"A friend of mine - " in fact, it had been Buffy "-told me once that the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again, and expecting different results. Your Dark Lord has sent two squadrons to take care of me and my friends, and both times they were thoroughly demolished. Now if you really think that you alone can succeed where ten other Death Eaters failed, you're either an idiot or crazier than I thought."

He didn't expect the reaction he got. "So you're claiming credit for bringing down the first assault?" Her laugh actually sounded more amused then deranged. "I wouldn't take credit for defeating such rank amateurs."

Harry was still waiting for another series of pops. Voldemort's forces always seemed to come en masse, so he thought that it was very likely they were waiting somewhere just out of reach. Maybe they were going to concentrate their attack on the Slayers.

His eyes flicked down towards Buffy and Faith. They were still dealing with the vampires (none of whom seemed as difficult as Trick had been), but there was no sign of wizards of any kind.

He looked back at Bellatrix, who still hadn't cast a spell of any kind, and who seemed utterly uninterested with what was happening at the other end of the alley. Was it possible that in her long captivity that she had forgotten what a Slayer was, and just saw them as another pair of Muggles not worth considering?

Still, Harry didn't believe for a minute that she was as detached as she appeared to be. But he realized something liberating. The last few days he'd seen so much darkness that now Bellatrix Lestrange seemed little more dangerous then Nearly Headless Nick. He still wasn't sure if he could deliver a Killing Curse at her and mean it, but death at her hands scared him far less.

"Do you want to finish this, Bellatrix?" he said coolly.

"The Master wants the privilege of handling you himself," she told him in about as level a tone as Harry thought that she could manage.

"In other words, he thinks you're expendable,." Harry took out his wand. "And you know, I'm inclined to agree with him."

Bellatrix actually managed a smile at this. "Maybe I've underestimated you," she told them. "Maybe you're closer to the Heir Of Slytherin then we ever thought."

"You bloody coward," Ron had been remarkably quiet up until now, but this particular insult he couldn't not answer. "Harry might have objections to handling you. I certainly don't."

"Your time will come Weasley,." Now there was genuine amusement in Bellatrix's voice. "But not tonight. I didn't come here for you."

Harry tried to keep his face blank, but he was a little thrown by this. "Then why did you come to this particular alley?"

"Because she wanted to see her scrapbook. Memories of family are hard to find in this world."

It took Harry a moment to realize that Bellatrix hadn't spoken, but the voice that had was very like hers . t clearly unsettled Buffy, even from across the alley.

"This time the little lambs are going to eat the lion." From the middle of the night came another familiar face, though one Harry had only seen it in a vision.

"Look, my child," Drusilla said to them. "Your great-aunt's come home."


	14. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

Considering that he'd already seen her in a vision, Harry didn't think that it was possible for the appearance of Drusilla in the flesh to inspire terror in him. But just as when he'd seen Angel for the first time, he was more than a little unnerved to be staring at a vampire as dangerous as her - she made Bellatrix appear positively sane by comparison.

"So you're the little boy who's brought so much fear into the world," Drusilla was moving forward, but she wasn't looking at him. "Why is the Dark one afraid of such a little lost lamb?"

"You're one to talk," Ron countered. "Considering all the bloodshed you caused on your last trip here, I'm surprised you have the nerve."

"This town is full of screams," Drusilla wasn't acknowledging Ron either. "How could the Dark One resist this chaos?"

"He has other things that need to be done," The expression on Bellatrix's face was one that Harry couldn't identify. For some reason, that bothered him more than the fact that Drusilla was here at all.

"He'd do well to avoid this place," Drusilla replied. "Daddy tried to run it, but it ended up running him."

Ron clearly was unsettled, but realized he'd probably never get as clear a shot at her as this. "_Incendio!"_

_"Aguament__i__." _The flames from Ron's wand were dowsed before they were anywhere near her.

_Now _Harry had a legitimate reason to be scared. He wasn't sure which unnerved him more: that one of the deadliest vampires in the world apparently was a witch, or that she'd managed to counter Ron's spell without any wand. She hadn't even looked at him before casting her spell

"Little boys shouldn't play with matches," Drusilla didn't seem to even acknowledge what she had done. "Houses burn down. Ladybugs go without beds."

At that moment Faith, who had shown admirable restraint in finishing off the vampires who were causing such a mess to begin with, came running over to join Harry and Ron. "You know, I don't think, we've ever been formally introduced," she said slowly. "I'm Faith. You slit the throat of the gal who came before me."

"You got the keys of the kingdom because of me," Drusilla seemed only slightly more interested in Faith than she did of Ron. "Perhaps we should have tea and cakes together."

"Well, put it that way, and I suppose I owe you one," Faith assumed a fighting stance. "So I'm going to give you one chance. Walk away from this and never come within spitting distance of Sunnydale-"

"Crucio!"

Faith doubled over so quickly it might have been amusing under other circumstances. Harry and Ron were way past considering anything Bellatrix did as funny.

"So that's what a Slayer looks like," Bellatrix seemed even more detached from what she had done than Drusilla was. "They bleed just like everybody else."

"Would you like to have a taste?"

A horrible idea had just dawned on Harry. It was both completely impossible and the only thing that made sense right now. "How are you and this vampire bitch related?" he demanded, barely able to restrain the disgust.

"We thought that this branch of the family had been wiped out," Bellatrix replied calmly. "Imagine how overjoyed I was to find that this part of it is still out there."

"Really?" Harry had to hand it to Faith; the spell which would have knocked a lesser person out cold in agony seemed to be wearing off quickly. "Considering how fast you were willing to ice your last distant cousin, I'd think that you'd want to avoid these kind of reunions."

That seemed to register in a way the last remark hadn't. "Insolent little Muggles should watch what they say," Bellatrix said in a much colder tone.

"You wanna dance baby?" I'm ready." Faith looked unsteady on her feet for the first time since Harry had seen her.

Bellatrix's next reaction was to utter another _Crucio_. This time, though, she aimed it at Ron. He wasn't as disciplined as Faith, and howled in pain. "I find that sometimes it goes better if you let them watch."

"Cute," All of the fun had gone out of Faith's voice for the first time. "I've lost count of the number of deadly creatures whose asses I've kicked tonight. I don't have any problem adding you two to the list."

Harry knew that baiting Bellatrix Lestrange was like dancing in front of a cobra. And he wasn't sure that he was ready to play games with one of the deadliest vampires in history who also seemed to be one of the most powerful witches into the bargain. What did have him concerned was the fact that Bellatrix had had the advantage, and hadn't yet cast the killing curse. There was some part of this they weren't seeing.

All of this passed through his mind in a second. But some part of him wanted this- the part that wouldn't let him forget what had happened in the Department of Mysteries- and was running on automatic. Because somehow his wand was in his hand.

"Little boy wants to play games with the grownups," It was eerie how much Drusilla's voice was like Bellatrix's. "Not ready for the game though."

"We will finish this, Harry," Bellatrix didn't even seem concerned. "But not tonight. I've got far more important things to attend to."

Faith tried to leap at the witch, but she Apparated seconds before the Slayer's foot touched Bellatrix's head. He heard no corresponding pop for Drusilla, but he was not particularly surprised to look in her direction, and find her departed as mysteriously as she had arrived.

"FUCK!" Faith yelled before she hit the ground. She smashed her hand into a brick wall hard enough to leave a gaping hole in it. Even knowing who she was, Harry couldn't help feeling sorry... for the wall.

Buffy finally ran over. "What the hell kept you?" Faith spat out. "Did you not see what we were dealing with?"

"You left me to take on three vampires. Even for me, that's a big haul," Buffy replied.

"When did Drusilla become a witch?" Ron demanded.

"What the what?" Buffy asked. "How the hell did she even get here in the first place? According to Harry's vision, they were still in South America."

"Well, I'm guessing that Voldemort found some way to appeal to her," Harry told her. "Three guesses as to what that was."

"Drusilla's related to Bellatrix," Ron couldn't seem get past this. "I didn't think that her family tree could get any more twisted."

Harry was inclined to be insulted by this, but he knew how ashamed Sirius had been of his lineage. No wonder so many people had been willing to accept the worst of the Black heir after Voldemort had murdered the Potters.

"Are you sure that this isn't some kind of twisted insanity on both their parts?" Buffy asked. "Neither of those two seemed exactly stable."

"Bellatrix is insane, but she's far from an idiot," Harry replied. "She wouldn't make a mistake like that. Why are you so sure she's lying?"

"I know that all of Drusilla's family was wiped out before she was..." Buffy trailed off.

"Oh, that's right," Ron replied sourly. "What, you think we forgot our homework assignment? That's another one you can lay at the foot of your boyfriend." He looked around. "Which gives us another reason to talk to him. Where'd he go?"

Harry looked at Buffy. "Please tell me you have a place in mind for a rendezvous," he demanded.

He knew well enough that Buffy didn't like being ordered around, but apparently she was sensitive enough about this matter that she didn't argue. "Just outside the harbor a little before midnight," she told him. "He's never been much for celebrating."

Harry looked at his watch, and was astonished to find that it was only a little after nine. So much had happened to him in the last few hours that he thought that it was much later. "First things first,"

He turned back to Trick, who Ron had had the good sense to Stupefy before Bellatrix had walked on stage. "Faith tells me that this vampire will have answers," he said flatly. "How good are you at getting information from the undead?"

Buffy looked at Trick. "Somehow I think breaking this guy's thumbs won't get us what we need." She looked at Harry. "What's that potion you use to get the truth out of fellow wizards?"

"Veritaserum," Ron spoke up. "I imagine Hermione could whip up a batch. She was always better at Potions than either of us."

"That doesn't seem like nearly as much fun," Faith whispered. "Since him and me, we got a score to settle."

"You'll get a chance at him," Harry said, even though he thought that leaving the two of them in the same room was a huge mistake. "But we've got much bigger fish to fry. We've got to figure out how to destroy those Horcruxes tonight, if not faster."

"Willow thinks that she may have found a way destroy the locket if we can get it open," Ron turned to Buffy and Faith. "Which we've been avoiding ever since we got here."

"Hey, I remember what happened the last time," Buffy told them. "You really want to risk us doing our best Linda Blair impersonation again?"

"You see another way around it?"

Buffy and Faith hesitated a long time before both of them shook their heads. "We'll get it done, but not unless it's as safe as we can make it."

Harry thought there was something downright hypocritical about Buffy being willing to risk death by vampire, demon and every other creature that went bump in the night, yet blanching at the idea of being exposed to black magic. Then again, considering how difficult it had been to destroy the first two Horcruxes, she might have a point. Faith and Ron clearly saw this too from their expressions but both let it go.

"I'm betting that's not going to work on the Heffalump cup," Buffy continued.

"Hufflepuff," Harry said automatically "Honestly, I'm not sure that Angel will be in the greatest mood after whatever other spells Voldemort used on it." He hesitated. "Guess I'll find out when I see him."

For the first time Buffy looked a little out of sorts. "Who said you were invited?"

"I'm not the vampire here," Harry countered. "And not to change the subject, but this is yet another in a long line of things he's omitted to tell us. "

"He told us that Drusilla had precognitive abilities," Buffy responded. The tension in the air was growing. "For all we know, that's the only magic that she had."

"He knew her for over a hundred and fifty years; you honestly trying to tell me that the possibility that she was a witch just slipped his mind?"

"I didn't think it would be possible for you two to get stuck in a measuring contest," Faith finally interrupted, clearly enjoying what she was seeing "And while I am curious to see how big Buffy's is, I'd remind you that the fucking cops could come back at any moment, and they already don't have a high opinion of Slayers."

Buffy was clearly not willing to give an inch, but she also agreed with Faith. "Fine, but _you're _carrying the vampire."

"Talk about dead weight," Faith riposted, as she heaved Trick back on her back. "Would you two do the honors?"

There had to have been a good reason why they hadn't just Apparated here in the first place, but for the life of him, Harry couldn't figure out what it was. Getting caught by whatever people ran the American equivalent of the Ministry was at the bottom of the list of the things that concerned him.

Harry's last thought before they all exited the alley was that this had been one of the longest days of his life, and it wasn't even close to being over yet.

If anything, Hermione was less happy than Ron to learn that Bellatrix had finally entered, stage right, and it had a lot less to do with whom she was related to.

"If Voldemort's sending one of his most trusted followers to a Hellmouth, he has to know that we know about the Horcruxes," she told them. "That's probably why he brought Drusilla and Spike here in the first place. He wants to make sure that Buffy and Faith are kept in check."

"He don't know us very well, do he?" Xander replied in a babyish voice. "Thinking that's going to be enough to keep one Slayer, let alone two out of the picture."

"It's how he seems to think," Harry replied. "But he wouldn't be expending all this energy if he didn't have something more sinister cooked up."

"Taking over the world's just a day job for this guy?" Buffy asked with what appeared to be genuine curiosity.

"Well, like it or not, we have more important things to focus on," Giles replied, looking at the unconscious heap that was Trick. "If you really believe that this vampire knows more about this greater evil, then it is in our interest to, um, question him."

Faith looked at Trick, then at Giles. "How long until you meet with Angel?" she asked Buffy. "Less than three hours?"

"About that, why?"

"Save your Veritaserum, " Faith had a grin on her face that Harry was beginning to find more and more becoming each time he saw it. "What I hear, once or twice, B's had to make vamps talk who weren't that cooperative. " She turned to Buffy. "Now, I don't know about you, but I can't think of a more productive way to _kill _a couple of hours."

Buffy's face was a study. She paused a long time before she looked at Faith. "You're really holding a grudge, aren't you?" she said slowly.

"He laid a major whupping on you, you telling me you _don't?" _Faith countered. "How long would it take to whip up that potion?" she asked Hermione.

"An hour, maybe a little longer," Hermione told them.

"Give us thirty minutes and one of those crucifixes, and we'll see if we can, um, loosen his tongue."

Looks of disapproval were crossing Hermione's and Willow's face. Giles said nothing, but began to fidget with his glasses. Ron and Xander didn't seem to have a problem with it. Harry, for his part, wasn't going to say a single word in favor of the vampire who had tried to kill him

Hermione must have noticed that the mood was decidedly hostile., as she didn't advocate for the rights of the poor little vampire. "We need to destroy the locket," she said slowly. "To do that, we're going to need one of you to help. Can we agree to save the pokers and tongs until after we've gotten that much done?"

"Have you or Willow figured out how to do it without us getting infected?" Buffy asked.

"We're pretty sure, but there aren't many guarantees with magic," Willow told them.

"I think we've been messing around with this thing long enough," Ron replied. "I'd at least like this year to end with us getting rid of this blasted thing."

Buffy looked at Faith. "You want try pulling it apart this time or shall I?" she asked.

Faith shrugged. "I don't have a problem putting my ass on the line. But fair is fair. I think you deserve to take a whack at it."

To her credit, Buffy without hesitating walked over to Hermione, who produced the locket. "I have to warn you, even if I do this spell perfectly, it's probably going to hurt a little," she told her.

"Slayers heal quick," Buffy countered.

"I meant in Slayer terms," Hermione replied. "For a Muggle or even some powerful wizards, it would probably be enough to kill them. We'll do it as fast as we can and with as many charms as possible, but there is a risk."

"Are you certain this will work?" Xander asked. "'Cause if this gets out of hand..."

"It'll work," Hermione said firmly. Harry could tell she wasn't as certain as she was putting forth, though. "But I think it might be best if we do this in another room." She looked Buffy right in the eye. "Willow, I'll need you to help with the spell. Everybody else needs to get out of here."

"You aren't defusing a damn nuclear bomb," Xander told them.

"No, but the same principle applies," Hermione told them. "There's going to be a lot of dark magical energy in here. Even with the strongest kind of shielding spells, there's no telling what kind of poison this thing could give off. It probably would be best if as few people as possible were exposed."

Ron looked at his best friend as if she had told them she couldn't crib off his homework "You honestly think that after all the trouble we went through getting this damn thing, I'm just going to sit in the next room and listen as you get infected with some kind of hideous magic?" He walked right over to Hermione. "I know you don't like swearing, but as Faith would put it, 'fuck that.'"

If Harry had ever had any doubt that Ron was in love with Hermione, and that the feeling was mutual, this exchange, coupled with her effort to keep a stoic facade and failing, sealed the deal. He didn't want to break up the mood, but he realized better him than any of the others.

"I think we better stop with the theatrics and get on with it," he told them. "Time is not on our side."

Hermione was suddenly all business again. Very quickly she looked at her other best friend. "Are you going to make the same argument?" she demanded of Harry.

"No," Harry replied. "Someone has to stay outside and be ready to pull the three of you back if something goes-"

He was stopped when Buffy covered his mouth with her hand so quickly, she could have knocked his glasses to pieces. "Have you learned nothing about how life on a Hellmouth is?" she whispered.

Harry shrugged his shoulders. "Fine," he finally said. "But I want to be damn sure this thing is destroyed. You mind if I bear witness to that?"

Hermione looked at him. "I'd figured as much." She made a motion to the adjoining hall. "Wait over there. Everyone else who doesn't have either magical powers or super strength, get out of here now, please?"

Xander and Giles couldn't get out of the room fast enough. Faith looked at Harry, then Buffy. "I suppose you want to keep me in reserve in case Buffy's spontaneously combusts?" she finally asked Hermione.

"If something happens to Buffy, we're finding another way," Hermione replied. "Enough blood has been shed getting a hold of this locket already."

"Not exactly filling me with confidence, " Buffy countered.

Harry considered this for a moment. He wasn't wild about his friends putting their lives on the line for something that he put the most effort into getting, but he also knew better than to push Hermione, who had a variation of what he was now calling her 'resolve face'. Reluctantly, he walked to the hallway, but like Faith, stopped short of going any further.

"Just so we're clear," Hermione told Buffy. "I can cast shielding spells, but they're only going to protect us. Willow and I can't simultaneously protect ourselves without the magic hitting you. "

"So what exactly does protect me?" Buffy asked Willow, who'd been quiet this whole time.

"Basically?" Willow replied. "The three of us getting this done as quickly as possible."

Buffy looked like she'd expected as much. "The two of you ready?" was all she asked, before she finally picked up the locket.

"On the count of three, start pulling," Hermione told her.

"One." Long hesitation on Hermione's part.

"Two." Willow seemed to do the same.

The tension must have gotten to Buffy because she started pulling before Willow could get 'three' out.

Buffy was by far the more experienced Slayer., but Harry was beginning to wonder if that counted for anything, because it seemed to be taking longer for her to start seeing any kind of results. It seemed to take more than a minute before the locket began to open; another one before the small green glow appeared that Harry remembered seeing when Faith had done the same a few days earlier.

The instant that it was open Hermione and Willow began to chant - new territory; almost every spell they'd learned at Hogwarts could be administered with a few words. Harry, whose knowledge of Ancient Languages began and ended with Latin, could not identify more than the odd word here and there. But one word was uttered every few seconds: _Corrodo._

By now, Buffy had the locket almost completely open. The green flicker that had been present when Faith had tried it was turning a spectrum of colors- orange, red, blue, silver. However, Harry could also see that Buffy was perspiring: far more than she had been when she had been whaling on the vampires earlier.

Then, after more than a minute of this, smoke began to come from inside the locket. Before anybody could do more than acknowledge this, they could see that Buffy's hands were begin to redden.

"Guys?" Now the Slayer's voice was begin to quiver. "How much longer do I have to hold this?"

Willow and Hermione never stopped chanting. Ron, who was trying to maintain a stoic facade, was starting to look nervous, because now the Horcrux was beginning to start smoking.

"HP, please tell me that you've seen spells do shit like this," Faith was whispering, but she was beginning to sound concerned as well.

"It took a lot of energy just for Dumbledore to find the fake one," Harry whispered back. "This could be even more trouble than your friends signed up for."

"Boy, you suck at sweet talk,." Faith added, "I hope like hell this is normal."

By now, the entire locket was ablaze, and the heat finally became too much for Buffy to bear. Two things happened simultaneously;: she let go of the Horcrux, and it started to levitate under it's own power.

For an instant, Harry wondered if this was going to be their punishment for trying to handle so much dark magic. Then the Horcrux rose higher, smoke seeming to come from within and without the locket at once, until finally, a huge _bang _split the air.

Three things happened simultaneously,: Willow and Hermione collapsed, Buffy fell backwards, and the curtains caught fire.

"Aguamenti! Aguamenti!" Ron and Harry both cast spells simultaneously, before they both started running towards Hermione and Willow.

"Um, little help!" Harry looked at Buffy in horror: her arms seemed to have suffered severe burns.

"Handle this," Faith demanded, as she ran into the room. Harry found himself hesitating. "I'll help your girl; you help ours. Got it?"

By now, the noise had attracted Xander and Giles, who, if they were amazed to see what the living room had degenerated into, were only baffled for a few seconds. Giles ran to Buffy; Xander ran to Willow, who like Hermione seemed to be coming out of her unconsciousness.

"What the hell happened?" Xander demanded, as he began to rouse Willow.

"Good news, the Horcrux was destroyed," Harry was surprised that even though this had happened, it didn't change his mood that much. "But it was a lot messier than we thought it would be."

By now, Willow was more or less conscious. Ron was far more concerned about Hermione, who looked a lot paler than she had been when this whole thing had started and was still not answering their calls.

"Would someone get the license of that... jewelry?" Buffy sounded a little disoriented herself. This worried Harry, as it was the first time since their initial meeting that she seemed anything less than in complete control of herself.

Hoping that the healing spells he'd learned didn't have any adverse effects on Slayers, he uttered a few. He was not immediately relieved though. The worst of the redness and scars faded, but the burns were still evident.

"I'm guessing.., that isn't supposed... to happen," Buffy sounded only slightly more coherent.

"This kind of dark magic can do bad things," Harry replied. "When Dumbledore destroyed one of the Horcruxes, he severely damaged his left hand. I don't think he ever fully recovered."

"Your bedside manner... sucks,." By now, however, the Slayer had regained her feet.

"I figured you'd be more interested in the truth," Harry replied, walking her over to one of her chairs. She didn't put up any resistance, which also worried him.

"I'm also worried about my friends. Is Will okay?"

Willow didn't look much better than Buffy, and she didn't have a slayer's constitution to rely on. "Just don't ask me to boogie down," she replied wearily.

Buffy then tried and failed to stand. "Did you get a dose of whatever's in me?" she asked Willow

"Those reflection spells should have protected us,' the red-headed witch told her. "Of course, I didn't exactly think that locket would, well, implode."

By now, Hermione had finally regained her sea legs as well, and was making her way over to them, much to Ron's objections. "There wasn't going to be any neat way to destroy that thing," she told them. "And right now, I think we have to agree to stop worrying about it."

"I know how stupid this sounds, but are you tripping?" Faith demanded. "You did see the same thing I did."

"For all we know, that Horcrux has been spewing its poison onto Harry, Ron and me just by having it in our possession," Hermione reminded them. "I worry about consequences more than anybody in Hogwarts, but the fact is, there wasn't anything we could do about it then, and there isn't now. In case you haven't noticed, we've got a lot more than that to worry about."

No one was foolish enough to contradict that. "You sure we shouldn't take Buffy to hospital?" Ron asked. "I'm not exactly wild about her trying to fight the powers of darkness with those battle scars…"

This time, Buffy shook her head. "In case you hadn't noticed, I heal quick. Besides, I can't stand the smell of the place. However," she told them, "I'm pretty sure I shouldn't be doing any heavy lifting while I'm on the mend, which pretty much rules out my meeting with Angel in a couple of hours."

Considering how adamant she had been about carrying forward with this little more than an hour ago, Buffy must have felt a lot weaker than she was letting on. "That mean you're going to actually tell me where it's taking place?" Harry asked.

"You promise he's going to come back in one piece?" she countered.

"He put himself at risk when he took the Horcrux," Harry reminded her. "That earns him some trust in my mind." He stopped short of saying it hadn't bought him that much, but he didn't want to have another row.

"Before we decide about dealing with our local vamp, how about we decide how to deal with the one we've got on ice?" Faith reminded them. "I'm guessing that B ain't up to going six rounds with Trick."

"Considering all the headaches we've gone through tonight, maybe trying the softer approach might be the easier way to go," Ron replied. "I say we cast an Imperius spell, make him spill his guts, and then dispose of him."

Again Harry expected Hermione to object. Again she didn't bother. Then something hit all of them at once, but she voiced it. "If you all came in here after the spell went strange...?"

She didn't have to finish the sentence before they all came running into the room where they had dumped the stupefied Trick.

Faith had trussed up the vampire good and proper, and they had only been out of the room for less than five minutes, but it had been long enough. The ropes stood empty, and the suited vampire was gone. About the only thing that had worked in their favor was that he hadn't been stupid enough to try and slaughter them.

"How much of our conversation do you think he heard?" Harry demanded.

"We have to assume he heard all of it," Giles replied. "Vampires have excellent hearing. Blasted thing was probably playing possum with us, and we bloody let him into our lair!"

Harry looked at Faith. "Is there any chance that this bastard was working for Voldemort?" he demanded.

"Fuck if I know," Faith seemed at a loss as well. "But if he knew who you were and what you were here for, don't you think the Riddler would be here by now?"

Harry was inclined to agree with her. Trick had looked him dead in the eye with not even the slightest hint of recognition. For that matter, if he had been with the Dark Lord, he would have come with Death Eaters, not the police and snipers. Still..."This place isn't safe anymore," he told them. "We've got to find a new hideout before he comes back."

"And how exactly is he going to do that?" Buffy reminded him. "None of us invited him in, never mind any reinforcements that he might have."

"Last I checked, Sunnydale had a lot of lesser demons that could just as easily kick the door in," Hermione reminded them. "And you're not exactly in condition to get into a fistfight."

Buffy didn't argue the point. Then a truly frightening idea hit her. "Spike," she whispered. "Sonofabitch can just stroll in the front door."

"You invited him into your house?" Giles seemed more appalled at this then Buffy was.

"Just before the shit with Acathla hit the fan." Buffy replied. "I didn't have much of a choice as to who to rely on after the cops came calling."

That shut everybody else up - this was still a sore point for most of them. "How long would it take you to work up a spell to un-invite him?" she asked Willow.

"Less than half an hour," Willow told him. "But wouldn't it be simpler just to stake him?"

"Oh, I'm going to," Buffy replied. "Soon as I can do more than walk in a straight line, I'm going to kick his ass into next week, but right now we've got a lot more to worry about."

Again nobody argued the point. "Um, are we still just going to sit around, and wait for the monsters to come here?" Xander asked.

Harry looked at Buffy. "Is there any other place than we can use as some kind of sanctuary?"

The answer came from an unlikely source. "Amy," Willow replied. "She and a couple of other practices witches have started a Wicca group. "

"You really think it's safe involving her?" Hermione asked.

"If Voldemort really has recruited Drusilla and Spike, he knows of all our old stomping grounds," Willow replied. "I don't think Spike even knew who Amy was. At the very least, it'll buy us enough time for us to build some kind of safehouse. That okay, Buffy?"

"All right, but for now, I'm staying here," Buffy held up her hand. "My mom's out with some friends for New Year's, and right now, I have no way to reach her. I'm not letting leaving her to walk in the front door, and become... some vampire's idea of a really bad joke."

Harry knew better than to argue this. If the circumstances had been reversed, he wasn't sure that he'd have been able to be that clear-headed. He turned to his friends. "One of you has to stay here, in case she needs time to regain her full strength."

"I'll do it," Ron replied. Before Hermione could protest, "You don't exactly look like you're up to casting a Patronus spell right about now," he told her bluntly. "You need to recover as much as Buffy does."

Hermione decided not to argue the point, which illustrated how much the last spell had taken out of her.

"I'm staying, too," Xander replied. "This might be one of those occasions when being a soldier might come in useful."

"All right then," Buffy wasn't arguing either. "Willow, get in touch with Amy, then you, Hermione, and Giles get over there ASAP. Ron will work on our unvitation to Spike; Xander, find a way to make sure this place is secure." She looked at Faith. "I'm guessing you and Harry are going to pick up the Horcrux."

"At this point, it might be safer for us to find a place to hide it," Harry told them. "At least until we can figure out how the hell to destroy it. Where were you going to rendezvous?"

"Pier 12. It's where ships leaving for international waters set out." Buffy actually looked a little wistful in mentioning this, but Harry wasn't about to ask why. "I realize you've got a lot of questions to ask him, but right now, we need all the friends we can get."

Harry didn't want to think about why they had to have the sire of two of the vampires who were going to be doing their damnedest to kill him ranked as an ally. But now was not a time to be getting into a fight about deals with the devil.

Especially when he was going to be dealing with that particular devil soon.

It might- or again, it might not- have relieved the residents of Revello Drive to know that Trick hadn't heard much of what had been said. They wouldn't have been comforted to know that he knew enough already to do some serious damage.

As soon as he was a safe distance from the Summers home, he took out a cell that neither of the Slayers had thought to deprive him of. He had been reluctant to make this particular call, but right now avoiding upsetting his boss was greater priority.

"Well, you're right, this is a matter of concern," the Mayor was telling him. "Frankly, I'd always felt a little worried about accepting this particular contribution. But those English, they always sound so polite about dark rituals."

"You want me to run down Angel?" Trick asked.

"I have a feeling that our new guests will provide him with sufficient entertainment. After all, one can't usher in the New Year without some fireworks." Trick could almost see the Mayor smiling at this. "No, it's Tom we're going to have worry about."

"Has he arrived yet?"

"No, right now he's probably too focused on Miss Summers' other houseguest to be a concern to us," The Mayor shook his head. "He always got distracted easily. It is of the utmost importance that we keep him distracted until after midnight."

"You found a way to handle it." Trick was concerned.

"Wasn't easy. When you've set a deadline for a hundred years, the lower downs don't like it if you reschedule at the last minute. But Tom is not unlike our new guest William. Bit hot-headed when he doesn't get his way, and he might try to act on that," the Mayor replied. "And I'd rather face him on a level playing field than risk ruining my schedule."

"Fair enough. What do you want to do about our friends with the magic wands?"

"I love this town. Have I mentioned that recently? Not just the good elements, but even its more, well let's call them, undesirables. I think it's the good and bad that give any town its character." Trick knew better than to interrupt his boss when he got like his. "Now Tom, he's a powerful man, but he lacks the depth of vision necessary to truly appreciate that. I think when he makes his presence known - as he will - that he'll get a full picture of what makes Sunnydale what it is."

"Which character did you have in mind?" Trick asked.

"That contributor I mentioned before? Mine wasn't the only project that he invested in. For that matter, London wasn't his only base of operations." The Mayor paused. "I think that it's time I made contact with his other major supporter. People who have a greater problem with black magic than I do."


	15. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

Considering everything that had happened in the last eight hours, Harry wasn't surprised that he was beginning to feel on the verge of collapse. He figured the adrenaline from the last few hours was finally beginning to wear off, but Faith seemed as fresh as a daisy.

He then asked Faith a question that had been bothering him ever since he and his friends had gotten to Sunnydale: "When the hell do you sleep?"

"I don't know when B and the other Scoobies find sack time,; I'm usually out like a light in the middle of the morning,." Faith dropped another wink. "Want to catch some Z's?"

"I don't know how you find the energy," Harry replied. "You've had less rest than I have, and you look like you're ready to take on another nest."

"Must be part of the whole Slayer package," Faith shrugged. "Hell, maybe it comes as part of this magic Hermione says that all Slayers have. "

Harry admitted that this could be the case.

"What kind of rest have you had while you've been on this Quest for the Horcruxes?" Faith countered. "I'd figured you'd be on shorter hours yourself. Hell, it's not going to be midnight for another few minutes."

"Hell if I know," Harry replied. "Maybe I'm just not used to this whole Sunnydale sleep cycle that everyone else seems to be on. Another couple of weeks, maybe I'll be on the same standards."

"Except that you're not going to be here that long," For the first time, a lot of the fun had dropped out of Faith's voice. "Hell, as soon as you get the Horcrux, you and your friends probably need to get the fuck out of here before the Wizard formerly known as Riddle sends a whole damn army to wipe you out."

Harry and his friends hadn't had time to discuss this, but there had always been an underlying agreement that this was the case. Whatever the other Horcruxes were, it was far more likely that they were in England somewhere then scattered across the globe. And enough people were in the line of fire here that he didn't want on his conscience.

Yet for the first time since this long search had begun, he felt loathe to leave. Maybe, despite all of the disconnect from the war he'd felt as long as they'd been in California, he felt reluctant to get back on the front line. Maybe Hogwarts and the Ministry- everything connecting with the wizarding world- seemed so far away.

Or maybe it was simpler than that. "Were you serious about wanting to come with us?" he asked bluntly.

If Faith was surprised by the question, she managed to hide it well. "I realize that you're involved in a war," she told him. "There's one going on here, too. And I think it ends a lot worse if our side loses here than there."

Harry couldn't argue with that logic. So it said something for his state of mind that he did. "Voldemort's already wreaked a lot of death and destruction. For the last four months, I have been trying to erase the things I saw in the Ministry from my mind. I don't even want to think what that bastard has done to Hogwarts. The end of the world can't be worse than this."

"Not to take away from what's going on, which I've no doubt is terrible," Faith replied, "but that's a crock and you know it. Just by reading about it, you know how deep the shit gets here. So why don't you quit toying around and say what you want to say?"

That directness again. Harry wasn't sure he wanted to hear the answers to the next group of questions, but he didn't think he had a choice. "How much of what happened in the motel was you letting off steam?" he finally asked.

Faith's expression remained neutral. "Look, I realize everybody feels different about their first time," she said with what amounted to delicacy for her. "And I get that you were really into it, but last I checked, you have a sweetheart in England."

"Who I went through a very elaborate breakup with," Harry said slowly. "Who I may never see again. And even if I do, that's not the issue."

"HP, you've known me less than a week,' Faith reminded him. "You're in the middle of a war, and, you haven't exactly had a normal life. Besides, if there's one thing that B and the rest of her posse have taught me, it's that love on a Hellmouth is damn near impossible."

There was a certain truth to her words. However, Harry also noticed that Faith seemed to be going through some elaborate verbal gymnastics - something she wasn't good at.

"You haven't answered my question," he tried again.

"I'm not known for making the wisest decisions after kicking ass and not taking names," Faith replied. "And I'm really lousy at having any kind of relationship. I won't deny the sex would probably be awesome- least on my part- but you deserve better."

"And why wouldn't you be a part of that?" Harry asked. "Why are you always saying you're second best to Buffy? You're at least as good a fighter, you're honest, you're fearless, and- I'll admit to be a little prejudiced- you're a lot hotter. Why do you think that you don't deserve to be happy?"

"Happiness doesn't happen on a Hellmouth," Faith replied. "Buffy and Angel may have this great, undying love, but she's too blind to realize there's no future in it. Xander had a relationship with Cordelia, and he basically pissed it away because his hormones got the better of him. Oz and Willow, they're still recovering from the exact same problem. Romance is doomed here."

Faith was putting up a lot of resistance, but throughout the conversation Harry had been moving closer to her, and she hadn't moved away. "Why won't you answer me?" he asked.

"Nothing good can come of this," Faith whispered. "Your words, not mine."

"Maybe we're both wrong."

And at that moment, fireworks began to go off across the water. 1999 had officially begun. Had he been more observant, Harry wouldn't have been impressed- these fireworks were far inferior to the ones Dumbledore had put together. But at that moment, neither he nor Faith were looking beyond their immediate field of vision.

"This is not the best time to have a crush," Faith whispered.

"If this is a crush, I'm not sure I could take it if I ever felt the real thing," Harry countered.

And then, neither sure who made the first move, they were kissing again.

It didn't last nearly long enough before Harry became aware of another presence.

So did Faith. "Don't you have anything better to do than lurk in the shadows?' she demanded.

"What happened to Buffy?" Angel demanded.

Not for the first time, Harry felt genuine resentment towards the vampire. "Just because you've been dead for two centuries is no reason to act like a damn Peeping Tom," he snapped, "anymore than enhanced vampire hearing gives you the right to listen to private conversations."

For the first time since he'd come to know him, Angel had the good grace to look abashed. "We've got more important things to deal with than worrying about privacy," he argued.

"I would say it should mean even more," Harry countered.

"B's fine," Faith replied. "We just spent the last couple of hours reducing the parts of Voldemort's soul by one. As you probably learned, that's pretty damn hard work."

"I'm starting to get an idea," Angel admitted. He held out his hands, which bore the impressions of the cup that they had liberated. "Usually for that to happen, I have to be near something holy."

"For all intents and purposes, that was," Harry told them. "How'd you get away from Sunnydale's police force?"

"They've never been staffed with the best and the brightest," Angel told them. "And I don't think that any of them have been near the sewers in a while."

"Where'd you put it?"

"Follow me."

Reluctantly, Faith and Harry did. "How'd you get away?" Angel asked.

Abruptly, Harry remembered why he'd insisted on making this little trip. "The police are idiots. Of somewhat greater concern was the arrival of one of your children."

Angel had had centuries to perfect the act of stoicism. "So Drusilla is back in town?"

"It would've been nice to know that before I ended up in an alley with her," Harry wasn't going to give the sonofabitch any quarter. "Just as it would've been good to know that she's also a witch."

"When exactly were you planning on telling us that she knew more than the usual number of ways to kill a man?" Faith wasn't bothering to hide her disgust.

Angel froze. "She always had the sight, I knew that much," he told them, "but that's the only power she ever demonstrated-"

"Stop bullshitting us," Faith was getting angry. "From what Harry tells me, you spent several years slaughtering everyone Drusilla was close to before you sired her. You didn't happen to notice that they were wizards?"

Now a genuine expression of alarm was appearing on Angel's face. "If she'd been a wizard, she'd have had a hundred chances to kill me before I turned her," he said slowly. "Besides, you think I can't tell the difference?"

"Maybe they were the part of her family you left alive," Harry countered. "Because apparently one of her distant relatives happens to sit at Voldemort's right hand. A woman, by the way, who is so completely round the bend, she makes Drusilla look like a model of sanity."

"Now they're all together," Faith told him. "And this kind of family reunion is going to end with slaughter on an epic scale. Considering that both of them probably wouldn't object to seeing the world burn."

"Then we'll have to stop them," Angel replied.

"And how exactly do we do that?' Harry demanded. "In case you'd forgotten, Drusilla killed a Slayer the last time she came to Sunnydale. And given what I saw her do in that alley, she doesn't even have to get close to her victims to destroy them. I don't even want to think what'll happen if she and Voldemort decide to start to trading recipes."

"Then again, you didn't even know they were friends before they started this little tea party," Faith replied. "In any case, I think we now know why that little snowstorm happened a week ago. You've left a giant mess behind, and now we have to clean it up."

Angel was starting to look dour again, and suddenly Harry was getting sick of it. Maybe it was Faith's nervous energy wearing off on him, or his frustration with the latest set of enemies. Whatever it was, he'd had enough.

"You know, I'm getting really tired of this whole brooding thing,-" he began.

"I don't know why. He's had a century to perfect it. About the only thing Peaches here is good at."

Angel was the only one who knew the speaker by voice, but Harry would never have forgotten hearing it in his vision.

"I warned you never to come back," Angel said without turning around.

"Now you have to have known that wouldn't work," Spike replied. "And I must say, I am deeply disappointed by the company you've been keeping. You prophecy boys certainly flock together."

Harry had decided that he was tired of being shadowed by these vampires. Without even hesitating, he whirled around and tossed an 'Incendio' right at Spike. He was therefore unsettled when Spike managed to leap out of its path without a moment's hesitation.

"Not bad, Mr. Potter," Spike replied. "Maybe Tommy Boy has a reason to be afraid of you."

"And now, you have one to be scared of me," Faith whirled around, and assumed a fighting pose.

For the briefest of moments, a noticeable look of surprise was on Spike's face. It was, however, replaced by a nasty grin. "My, my, my," he said slowly. "You must be that Jamaican bint's replacement."

"I understand you like killing Slayers," Faith said calmly. "When you're not getting your raggedy ass run out of town by one."

Spike made a clucking sound. "Not even close to Buffy's style of repartee, " he said, shaking his head. "Then again, I'm guessing they don't teach Oscar Wilde in trailer parks."

Harry was not happy about how much darker Faith's face got. Spike had found the chink in her armor in less than two minutes. This was not going to end well.

"Give it up, Spike," he told the blonde vampire. "You might be able to take one of us down, but getting all three of us, - I don't think you have the ability to beat us on your own."

"Who said I came alone?"

Suddenly, there was the sound of a sewer grate opening, and within a matter of seconds, eight more vampires were on the ground.

"See, the two of you are an added bonus on this particular mission," Spike told them. "Our little job was to remove Captain Hair-Gel from the picture. It's amazing what just falls into your lap when you least expect it."

The vampires were moving in slowly. "This going to be a problem?" Harry asked Faith.

The smile was back on her face. "Nah, it's five by five," she told her.

"How much help will you need?"

Now Faith dropped a wink. "You were planning to help?"

Spike looked towards the heavens. "Very funny," He turned to his lackeys. "Do it."

And then, for a record-breaking third time in less than eight hours, Harry was in the middle of a fight. Fortunately, he had none of the qualms about destroying vampires that he'd had killing Death Eaters or policemen.

Unfortunately, the word about how these wizards had been setting the vamp world on fire had apparently spread to Spike's minions. Harry managed to set one vampire on fire before the rest of them began to spread their numbers so that Harry's spells weren't getting anywhere near them. They seemed to be dressed in layers, and every time he tried to incinerate one, all he did was manage to burn one of their coats.

Faith, naturally, was in her element, and managed to dust two of the vampires in three minutes. Seeing what was happening, she yelled out. "Hey HP, remember what Ron taught me!"

It took Harry several seconds before he remembered what he had seen Ron do just a few hours earlier. Moving quickly, he cast three Stupefy spells at the crowd. Two of them hit. A split second later, so did Faith.

They had eliminated five of the vampires before Harry looked around to see that Spike wasn't there anymore. While he wanted to believe that their foe had just stolen away into the night, he found this incredibly unlikely, especially when he realized Angel was gone too.

Tempted though he was to let these two vampires slug it out until each was a pile of dust, he realized he couldn't let that happen, at least until he knew where the Horcrux had been stashed.

He stupefied one last vampire before yelling to Faith. "I'm going after them," he yelled. "Follow me when you're finished here!"

"Save me a drumstick," Faith shouted back.

Harry took off, casting a Lumos spell in front of him. A few hundred yards away, he ran into them, but despite that, he suspected he could've set off a bomb, and not have registered; they were staring so intensely at each other.

"Harry, get the hell out." _So much for that illusion._

"Look who wants a fair fight," Spike seemed even more amused then before. "When did that soul of yours instill the need for the Marquis De Queensbury rules?"

"This business is ours. We don't need any-"

Harry was sick of this back and forth. "Stupefy!" he cast at Spike without thinking.

The bleached blonde managed to dodge it with a roll to the side. "Little hint, Mr. Potter. Next time, you want to try your big magic, you _might _want to try something more advanced on someone who survived the last four wizarding wars."

Harry was beginning to think this might be true. Nevertheless, he wasn't going to listen to Spike anymore than Drusilla.

"And how exactly do you plan on getting away now that your vampire cohorts have become so much dust?" he shot back.

"You really think I would risk coming out second in a street fight with the two of you?" he shot back. "No, I have an ace in the hole."

Harry heard a single pop. Even knowing what this meant, he still wasn't that worried. "That's your backup. One wizard," he scoffed.

"Just one riot, isn't there?" Spike gave a sinister smile. "'Sides, what makes you so sure that it's a wizard?"

And then Harry knew. Even before he turned around, he knew.

"Look who's come to play," Drusilla spoke in the kind of tone that would turn a Muggle's bowels to ice. Harry was not surprised that it had a similar effect on him.

"There's power in this one. All red and gold. I wonder what that kind of powers tastes like?" The vampire emerged from the shadows.

Angel was clearly unnerved a little himself. "Dru, this isn't your fight. Take Spike and-"

"_Silencio." _The dark-haired vampire barely made a wave of her hand, and Angel was rendered speechless. "Naughty daddy, speaking out of turn. He will have no cakes and ale today."

"Always hated the sound of that man's voice," Spike replied.

Now Harry was worried. Where the hell was Faith?

"Not so little a boy anymore, is he?" Drusilla sniffed the air. "Ehh. He stinks of Slayer."

Harry could've lived a lifetime without hearing those particular words from that source. "Shut up," he found himself saying.

"You and Miss White Trash," Spike again made the clucking sound with his teeth. "I gotta say, something of a let down."

"Said the pot to the kettle," The words were out of his mouth before he could restrain himself

For the first time, Spike seemed a little disturbed. "All right, let's leave women out of it," he said shortly.

"Oh my," Harry knew this was dangerous, but he needed to buy time. "Does William perhaps feel a bit jealous? What's that line about loving a lass below your station?"

"I wouldn't run my mouth around someone who can bleed you dry." Yes, Spike was definitely upset about something. Shame Harry couldn't figure out what it was. _Come on, Faith, where the hell are you?_

He tried a different tact. "After so many encounters with the Dark Lord, you really think I'm going to be scared of upsetting a lousy bloodsucker?"

"As someone who was killing Slayers before Tommy was even conceived, and who had no trouble burning wizards alive, I would really consider who I decided to piss off."

Great. Spike sounded like he was sure of himself again. "Not afraid of him, why should you worry me?" Harry countered.

Uh, oh. Now the bleached vamp was _smiling _at him. "You're barking up the wrong tree, prophecy boy."

And suddenly Harry realized he had concentrated his efforts on one vampire at the expense of the older and far more dangerous childe.

"My boys, fighting over me," Drusilla was practically in his face

"I'm not your boy."

Harry prepared to cast a Lumos spell- he couldn't miss at this range. Except when he tried to reach for his wand, his hands could not move.

"Quiet, my little lion," Drusilla was just waving a finger in front of his eyes- that was all. Yet for some reason he couldn't take his eyes out of Drusilla's face.

"See in me." Her voice was so soothing. The idea of fighting became as foreign a concept as algebra. And he was so very tired, just a little rest couldn't hurt...

"Get your hands off of him."

Harry could hear Faith's voice, but it barely registered. If it had, he would have noticed that for the first time in the week that he'd known her, the dark-haired Slayer sounded a little wound up.

"Go away, little fly." Drusilla face was a lot nearer to his neck than was probably good for him, but for some reason, he couldn't find a way to put up a fight.

Then Spike spoke up for the first time, and he sounded a little bit worried. "Um, angelfish, could really use a bit of a hand here,"

Feeling like his neck weighed a ton, Harry managed to turn his head towards Spike. Almost casually, he noticed that Faith had somehow managed to turn the tables on the vamp, and now had him in a chokehold.

However, this registered a lot higher on Drusilla's radar then his, and she lifted her focus on to Faith. Suddenly, his head felt like it had just gone through a session of Occulumency with Snape, and he snapped out of it.

"Take your hands off my boy," Drusilla actually sounded more menacing than she had when she was hypnotizing Harry.

"Fine, you take your hands off mine," Faith countered. "It's been a long night for all of us. How about we walk away and get some rest? Maybe things will look a lot clearer in the morning."

Drusilla let out an inhuman moan. "Nobody gets to punish my boy but me," she uttered.

"Not that- a part of me isn't- flattered- by all the attention- but could we perhaps- have this discussion- without the bloody- stakes this close to the heart."

"Not in a position to be giving orders," Faith whispered.

"And you're not in a position to lecture vampires."

Several things happened simultaneously. Spike whirled around, and heaved Faith over his shoulder- the damn vampire had obviously been playing possum. Somehow, this managed to break the remainder of the somnolence that had been gripping Harry, and, admittedly without thinking, he ran towards Faith. He therefore completely ignored Drusilla once again, and didn't even notice that she was readying a bolt of magical energy- until it knocked him to the ground.

Harry was sure that he was dead. There was no way that two of the deadliest vampires would go to this much trouble and not finish the job. Then he realized that neither had changed to their demon face, and Drusilla clearly hadn't cast the Killing Curse.

"Quite a mess your little friends have got themselves in," Spike now sounded self-assured- not a good sign. "If it was strictly up to me, I'd be really careful about what I did next."

And suddenly, Harry realized that during the entire fight Angel had been nowhere to be found.

"Luv, it might not be the worst idea to allow Captain Hairdo back his voice for this," Spike replied. "Just remember, keep him still."

Harry tried to turn to the where Angel had been speaking, and found he couldn't move his neck. For that matter, he couldn't seem to feel his legs. He tried to call to Faith and found he couldn't.

_The bitch petrified me. I think we're in real trouble here._

"Spike, you've wanted me dead for the last year; I'm a little curious as to why you haven't taken your shot," Angel sounded even more wary than he should have

"Oh, believe me that's going to happen," Spike was telling me. "The question is, how many people do you plan take with you?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Don't be mean," Drusilla told them. "You took a piece of the Dark One. That's not done in polite circles."

Harry knew that no matter how much he wanted Dru's help, Voldemort would never have revealed what a Horcrux was to her. The idea that the vampire had the sight suddenly took on a lot more reality.

To his credit, Angel maintained his poker face. "And what's it to you if I did? Last I heard, your whole attitude towards wars in general was that you wanted to be close enough to taste the blood. But you never got involved yourself."

Spike chuckled. "Emperor Pureblood seems to think he's going to rule the world. You and I both know he doesn't have a chance in hell of succeeding. But he can make a damn mess of things for us just like he did the last time he came around. So I'm going to make sure that I have some leverage over the bastard."

Had Harry the capability, his jaw would have dropped. Was Spike really saying what he thought he was?

"Don't tell me you're fighting on the side of truth and justice,." Angel clearly didn't buy this.

"Just protecting myself. Now I don't know what's in that little package you stole earlier tonight," Spike told them. "Frankly, I don't care. But it's valuable to Tom, which makes it valuable to us."

"This is a joke, right?' Faith replied. "You're going to try and outmaneuver the deadliest wizard in the world."

"Which, on the scale of some of the real nasties out there, is like saying he's the deadliest termite," Spike smiled at their discomfort. "Oh, come on. If he really was that deadly, why on earth would he come to Dru and me practically begging for our help?"

This certainly seemed to fit the visions that Harry had been getting, but even if he could talk, he had no intention of revealing that to Spike.

"If you're really on our side, why..."

"We're not on anybody's side," Spike told them. "There are a couple of areas where Voldy's and our interests coincide- that's all. He wanted us to do something that he couldn't. While we're here, we're going to cash in all the little IOU's we left the last time we came to this bloody town."

"So what makes you think we'll help _you?" _Faith demanded.

Spike ignored her and turned to Angel. "I don't bear Potter or Faith any old grudges. Far as I'm concerned, they want to go on fighting for the side of truth and puppies, I don't have a problem with that. 'Course," he turned to his beloved. "Can't say the same for Dru."

Dru was fixing Harry with a stare that, despite his condition, made his skin crawl. "So much light in this one. Shame if we had to blot it out."

"Take me instead."

"Again, not clear on the concept. " Spike replied. "Either way, you die. Give us the package, they live. Don't," now Spike showed his game face, "your last moments on earth are spent watching these two bleed out."

"Angel, don't listen to this dye job!" Faith was shouting.

"Your choice. You have to the count of three," Spike walked over towards Harry, and picked him up. "One. Two. Thr-"

"All right!" Angel finally shouted.

"Always the martyr," Spike shook his head. "Dru, lighten the spell, so that he can walk."

Dru barely nodded her head, and then Angel could move. "Him and me are going to get the cup. If I'm not back in five minutes, gut the bitch."

Faith, who had been struggling under Drusilla's grip, managed to maneuver enough so that she could hawk a loogie at him. "Fuck you, Blondie!"

Spike actually let his game face disappear before staring at Faith. "If only there were time," he said slowly. "Tell me, Potter, what's she like in the sack?"

Harry focused all of his energy at trying to kick the vampire's feet out from under him. He managed to get one foot to move an inch.

"Everybody's so touchy when they're paralyzed," Spike turned to Angel. "Let's go."

This really did have the trademarks of a nightmare, right down to just being able to watch as everything he'd worked for during the last day disappeared from sight. Then there was the fact he didn't trust Drusilla to stay clear of them one bit.

"So much power," Oh, this vampire was definitely a Lestrange, which said a lot about the sanity of this particular family. "Held so peacefully. Round the catch, the blackberry patch."

Harry was having a hard time believing that Faith was remaining motionless of her own free will, even if Drusilla was as powerful as everything seemed to indicate. He also didn't think she was stable enough to keep a track of time. Spike's word to the contrary, he was sure that the two of them were dead.

And he kept thinking that right until the arrow struck Drusilla in the shoulder.

Three things happened in quick succession- Drusilla loosened her grip on Faith, Faith hit Dru in the stomach, and the paralysis that had gripped Harry for the last few minutes lightened up enough for him to grab for his wand.

Dru let out a moan and a howl., simultaneously. "Who dares spoil the party?"

Another arrow flew through the air. This time, however, Dru waved her hand at it, and it froze right where it was. "Bad dog, bad dog!"

"And you, my friend, are a dirty skunk."

Harry practically got whiplash looking back to see that their savior was - "Xander?!"

"I told Buffy she should've held on to the machine gun; I was such a better shot with that," Xander said as he emerged from the night.

Faith managed to recover from her shock a lot quicker, and began to whale on Drusilla. However, the vampire clearly was only crazy, not stupid. Seeing that she was, for the moment, outnumbered, she disapparated.

"I'm never gonna get used to that," Xander told them.

"Not that I'm ungrateful, but couldn't you have revealed yourself before we were about to die?" Harry demanded.

"I'm the cavalry. It's against the rules for us to show up until the last minute," The confidence that was on Xander's face disappeared. "Besides, I'm not a Slayer. I might stand a chance of surprising Sid or Nancy, not both. Frankly, I'm a little surprised the lunatic didn't know that I was there."

"How much of that little dialogue did you hear?"

"Enough to know that we have to save Angel. Again," Xander sighed. "You know, you'd think after two hundred plus years he'd know how to save himself by now."

"We have to find the Horcrux; anything else has to come second to that." Harry told them.

"Maybe as an added bonus we can take out the bleached loudmouth?" Faith wondered.

"I'm sure Buffy wouldn't mind if we handled this part of the job," Xander came up short. "Of course, that assumes that we know where Angel is taking Spike."

That got all of them worried for a minute. "Harry, is there any kind of spell that you can cast in order to find them?" Faith demanded.

Harry was about to say no, then remembered something that Hermione had taught them a few months back. "REVEALO ESTE!"

A small bright trail resembling a whitish-gold spill appeared on the ground. "If I'm guessing right, that's the residual energy from the dark magic Voldemort put on the cup," Harry told them. "Hopefully, we can use it to follow Angel's trail right back to Spike."

"Why does that sound even less fun than it probably will be?" Xander asked.

"'Cause you're still not living right." Faith sounded rejuvenated. "You mind if I lead?"

"Last I checked, you and Harry are the ones with superpowers; I'm just a guy with a crossbow,"

"You did just save our lives," Harry pointed out.

"I was aiming for the bitch's heart," Xander told them. "Plus, who wants to bet she heads straight for her man?"

Harry wouldn't take that bet, choosing to focus on the magical trail.

None of them were particularly surprised to find that it led to an open manhole. "It's the middle of the night, and he has to take the longest possible route?" was all that Harry said.

"Personally, I gave up trying to figure that bastard's reasoning even before he lost his soul," Xander replied. "Besides, it's like a maze down there. Probably the safest place in the world to hide anything."

"HP, you'd better lead. We're going to need the light."

Harry nodded, but first waved the wand below. Not surprisingly, it didn't reveal much. "Why do I feel like we're about to get eaten alive?" he asked.

"That's 'normal' for Sunnydale residents," Xander pointed out. "Congratulations, you've gone native."

They headed carefully down the ladder, Harry leading, Faith in the middle, Xander bringing up the rear. The trail grew brighter as they walked forward, but Harry didn't know whether it was good or bad, and decided to worry about it after they found the cup. Right now, Angel coming back alive was a secondary concern and he knew that they wouldn't need to take a vote.

Harry wasn't sure how far they had to backtrack before they heard voices.

"Most valuable magical prize in the world, and you stash it in a sewer grate," Spike was saying.

"He allowed it to be displayed in a museum. That's how much he gave a damn about it," Angel replied. "I don't care if you take me out of the game, but you know if you do, Buffy will kill you."

"Or maybe she'll get how the librarian got when you decided to take out his little chickadee, " Spike replied slyly. "It's amazing how fast love makes you her bitch."

"You should know."

"Going after the girl, so last year," Spike clucked his tongue. "You never did get much with the times. I'd tell you to work on it, but you and I both know that's never going to happen. Any last words?"

"Yeah," Faith said as she spoke up. "Say hi to your girlfriend for me."

They had moved relatively soundlessly, but neither vampire seemed surprised to see any of them there. Their hearing really was as good as they thought it was.

"It's been too short for you to have taken out Dru, and not long enough for Buffy to have saved your ass," Spike replied. "I was serious about the deal, so just let me and Peaches get this finished, and then we all walk away."

"Hey, I'm pretty sure that you can sell tickets to the whole 'dusting Angel'; I'm only sorry that Giles isn't here to see it," Xander replied. "But we went to a hell of a lot of trouble to get this cup, and I really don't want to just hand it over."

Spike was genuinely amused. "This is a possession more valuable then the Star of India, and your argument boils down to 'Finders Keepers'?"

"How about we get the cup, and you finish staking Angel?" Harry countered. "I think that's what the Muggles refer to as a 'win-win'.

"Right in the room, goddamnit!" Angel finally broke out. "No one is getting this cup without-"

And the situation turned positively surreal, because that's when the canister was rolled in.

"What the hell is that?" Harry demanded.

But apparently the part of Xander's brain that was still a soldier worked a lot faster, because his reactions were quicker for once, and he pushed Harry to the ground.

Spike looked more amused, until it detonated, and the once dark sewers were illuminated with five times the brightness of normal.

Harry wasn't quite sure what happened next. He dimly recalled a second canister rolling, the room filling with some kind of gas... and then he blacked out.


	16. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

Harry had no idea how long he'd been unconscious. For that matter, he wasn't sure where he was because even though his eyes were open, he still couldn't see or move. It looked and felt like he was enmeshed in cotton, but when he tried to move his hands, he found that they were tied behind his back. He had no idea what was happening, but whatever it was, he seriously doubted that any wizards were involved - no one on either side of the magical war would have entrusted their fate to that kind of technology.

"How do you think they feel? They're livid. That a fugitive of this magnitude was allowed to fraternize with the Slayer?"

"I'm not minimizing the gravity of the situation, but we didn't even receive confirmation from Rupert until a few hours ago." A different voice, this one somewhat more pliant.

"We've had doubts about Rupert's competence for quite some time," a different voice said. "But these actions go beyond sacking. He'll have to face our tribunal, and I'm not sure even that would satisfy the wizards."

There was a pause. "You're not seriously going to just hand him over to the Ministry?"

"There will have to be a scapegoat, Wesley, and I'll be damned if I let it be one of us. If you don't have the stomach for this, maybe we're wrong to entrust you with this kind of mission." Another pause. "Our guests finally seem to have regained consciousness. I think it's time we stopped playing around."

There was a long pause, a piece of cloth was lifted from his head, and he could see again. The first thought that passed through Harry's mind was _I'm back in the damn warehouses! _

For that is where they seemed to be. The only major difference was that this time he could see some sunlight dimly appearing through the windows. He looked around as best as he could to see that he was chained to a chair. When he managed to look to one side, he could see Faith; on his other, he could see Xander. Each of them were similarly bound, and in Faith's case, she was chained to a wall. Both of them looked about as angry as Harry felt right now.

Not surprisingly Faith was the first to react. "Let me out of these goddamn chains, motherfucker!"

The man she was directing her anger towards was wearing a black leather coat, and dark gloves, and was demonstrating very good judgment by staying well beyond the reach of the length of chain. There were two other men similarly outfitted in the room, along with a much younger man in a three-piece suit and vest.

Xander put it together first. "You idiots work for the Watchers, don't you?" he said slowly.

The man in the suit reacted first. "I realize that you probably consider these restraints over-the-top, but as you must be well aware, this situation requires that strong measures be taken."

"Yeah, with me," Faith shouted. "So let the others go."

"As you're well aware, Miss Lehane, we can't do that,." The speaker's fluster would have been amusing if they weren't in this extreme situation.

"I'm with Faith. Why the fuck not?!" Xander was starting to get loud too.

"Over the last few days, you have been fraternizing with an undesirable element of the magical community." The guy in the suit was actually a little smug about the situation. "This element is a known fugitive for illegal entry and disruption of the Ministry of Magic."

"The element is right in front of you," Harry spoke up for the first time, "and doesn't like being called that."

The man in the suit- Harry thought _he _was the one called Wesley; he just looked a lot softer than the others- continued to ignore him. "There is a set code for how the Watchers deal with traffickers in black magic. The fact that your previous Watcher felt no need to reveal this to the Council demonstrates he has lost perspective. Obviously, Mr. Giles has been relieved of his duties."

"He actually quit a week ago, but never mind that," Xander told him. "That explains why Harry's been tied up. Why Faith? Why me?"

"You're a civilian consorting with a Slayer. This is a major irregularity, and until we have assessed your capabilities, we felt it was best if you were..."

"Bound and gagged?" Faith replied. "You know I'm beginning to think that Post might not have had to fall that far if this is how you do business."

Wesley had the grace to look abashed at this. One of the other men had a different reaction. He socked Xander upside the head.

"First of all, ow!" Xander retaliated, "and second of all, what?!"

"I'd be wasting my time wailing on her," the attacker said. "I'm guessing you care more about their wellbeing than your own."

"You're really not doing your best to win me over, cocksucker," Faith hissed.

"Your wellbeing is low on our level of priorities, Miss Lehane."

For the first time, Wesley began to look a little troubled. "Overby, I don't think we need-"

"This young woman needs to be schooled in the facts of life. Clearly, none of her previous Watchers have made an effort-"

"I knew how life worked long before I became a Slayer." Faith was actually starting to get a little quieter. "So why don't you just quit stalling, and say what you came here to say?"

Wesley managed to regain a little of his aplomb. "Operations in Sunnydale have been haphazard at best ever since Miss Summers was stationed here," he began. "Refusal to retain her secret identity. The involvement of civilians and at least one vampire, both of which have led to near disasters. And now this consorting with known criminals in the wizarding world. The entire situation has been crying out for review."

Faith took this all in for a moment, then began to yank so hard on the chains that Harry was pretty damn sure he saw one of the bolts start to loosen a bit. It clearly unnerved the men guarding her; they actually began to remove weapons from their coats.

Harry decided to put into words what Faith was demonstrating. "You're an even bigger group of fools than they have at the Ministry," he spat. "I'm amazed that you people have lasted as long as you have if this is standard procedure."

"You're in no position to dictate terms to us, boy," Overby countered.

"Really? What exactly is the Council's attitude towards the war with Voldemort?"

"The Council does not involve itself in internal power struggles within the magicking world," Wesley replied.

"Great strategy. Right up there with ducking under your desk to avoid nuclear fallout," Xander countered. "And before you pull that particular line of crap on me, I would remind you I've _lived _on this Hellmouth all my life. I know how bad things are a lot better than a lot of tweed suited amateurs."

Wesley had the good sense to at least look abashed at this. The three guys in coats- who Harry figured were a lot more dangerous got even sterner.

"We're not going to be lectured to by a bunch of children," one of them replied in a much lower tone.

"That's what you consider Slayers? Children?" Faith's voice got quieter - any lower and Harry wouldn't have been able to hear it all.

"Gentlemen, I think we may be straying far from the point," Wesley was starting to sound nervous, like an adult who was starting to realize the world was a lot less simple than it had looked during childhood.

"You say this is a review?" Faith replied. "Then why aren't Buffy and Giles here? This is their mess as much as it is ours."

"You were seen trafficking with three of the deadliest vampires in history. We need to monitor until we're sure you weren't compromised."

"Oh, give me a break!" Xander shouted. "If you can't tell what we look like when humans are turned-"

"_THAT'S _not the concern," Wesley told them hastily. "But if you were willing to negotiate with them over any issue, we are entitled to know what this is about before, um, proceeding."

"Why do I have the feeling that you're not going to release us anytime soon?" Harry demanded. "Even if we do answer all your questions?"

"You and your fellow undesirables will be returned to the proper authorities," Overby told them

There was a long pause, as none of them were quite sure that they could believe what they had just heard. "Do you idiots have any idea what is going on over there?" Harry demanded. "Do you even know how terrible things will get if we're turned over to Voldemort?!"

"Internal matters are not our concern," Wesley started again.

"Even when they involve the end of the fucking world?!" Xander replied. "Man, you guys are even dumber than I gave you credit for being! "

"I'd almost be willing to go with it," Harry said slowly, "if only because I'm pretty sure they'd kill you first."

This time Wesley's face did twitch a little. Whatever was going on here, he didn't seem to be completely on board. Overby and the others, however, didn't so much as blink. "Make the call," he told Wesley.

"Maybe we're being a bit rash," Wesley told them. "There was nothing in the briefing about Voldemort being involved in -"

"We have orders."

"Collins," Overby held up his hand. "If Wesley feels that we're exceeding our boundaries, then maybe we should let this pass. Pass it along the chain of command. And you know exactly who that is." He clapped his hand on Wesley's shoulder. "You really want your father to hear that you're listening to the hysteria of civilians?"

For a moment, it seemed like Wesley might put up an argument. Then, after a long pause, he pulled the phone out of his pocket, and walked into the other room.

"Save us the trouble of eavesdropping; what's going to happen to us?" Xander demanded.

"Mr. Potter will be turned over to representatives of the Ministry of Magic. Whatever they decide to do with you is their business," Overby told them. "Our major concern is what do with the Slayer."

These bastards were so blasé about condemning a person to death. Faith, however, didn't react at all.

The fact that these idiots were effectively willing to sign his death warrant suddenly seemed a secondary concern. "What are you going to do with Faith?" Harry demanded.

"Even the most casual observer can tell that Miss Lehane is beyond the reach of anything the Council can deal with," Collins replied smoothly. "Considering the fact that, for all intents and purposes, she is an extra Slayer, we intend to recommend, and the Council will no doubt authorize, that she is to be terminated."

There was a very long silence as the rank awfulness of this idea just resonated. "How the hell did Giles even agree to work with you assholes in the first place?" Xander finally answered.

"This is Council business. You're in no position to judge us," Overby told them.

"I'm so going to enjoy watching Buffy kick your ass up and down Main street," Xander told them with as much relish as he could muster.

"She's not going to get the chance."

Collins and Overby weren't idiots and before Faith had finished talking, they were pulling weapons from their coats. But they had clearly underestimated the capacity of an infuriated Slayer because before they could finish reacting, Faith ripped the chains from the wall and swung them into Collins's stomach. He fell backwards into to the third suited man.

Overby, who never stopped moving, had a gun out and trained on Xander before she could finish turning around. "I don't have a problem killing civilians," he told her. "I'm guessing you do."

"Maybe," Faith replied, "but thinking you could hold me wasn't your only mistake."

Before Overby could react to this, Faith knocked one of the crates behind her towards Harry, who saw an instant later that they had left his wand within reach.

_"Accio wand!" _Harry shouted, and the wand flew right at him. His reactions weren't as fast as Faith, but he managed to scream _"Stupefy!" _at Overby.

The Council operative fell to the floor paralyzed.

In the interim Faith had freed herself from the chains with an alacrity that would have done Houdini proud. She then ran over to Xander while Harry was freeing himself by magic.

"I think this pretty much makes us even," she told him.

"Honestly, I wasn't counting," Xander was decent enough to reply, then looked past him to see that Wesley had reentered the room, looking absolutely astounded.

Faith ran over to Wesley. "You don't seem cut out for this," she told him, "and you have to know that if we took out your friends, you don't stand a snowball's chance in hell of stopping us. So here's what's going to happen. When your friends are standing again, tell them that they can't fire me, I quit. Remind them that this is a Hellmouth, and right here, the Slayers call the shots. Tell them they've got their heads so far up their asses about wizards and magic, they obviously don't have any idea of how to deal with a crazy fugitive. And tell them that aside from Giles, nobody else from the Council ever sets foot on American soil. If they do, this will seem like a Christmas party compared to what happens. Got it?"

Wesley didn't even try to bluster at this, just nodded.

"Hope that remains clear when you get over this enormous headache you're gonna have," Again, before any one could react, Faith hit Wesley , and he hit the ground.

"Let's blow this shithole," Faith told them

It took Xander several seconds to wipe the goofy look off his face. Harry thought that there might be a similar one on his own, but he didn't have to be told twice that they needed to get the hell out.

It was not until they were a block away that Harry realized that with all the torture and threats, they had forgotten a couple of things.

"There was no sign of Angel or Spike there, right?" he asked Faith.

"The place was pretty much just one big room," she told him. "I didn't see any other place that they could have stashed them."

"And you didn't see the cup there, either,." Faith shook her head. "Fuck!"

"I realize how vital all of that stuff is, but could we possibly finish escaping with our lives before we look for the people we lost?" Xander replied. "Besides, I'm pretty sure Buffy and the others need to know that we've just suffered the less lovable part of the British Invasion."

Harry couldn't agree otherwise. "What are the odds that Buffy and my friends are searching for us by now?" he asked .

"It's enough to make me wish I could afford a cell phone," Xander admitted.

"We can't worry 'bout that. We told B and the others that we'd meet her at this Amy's house, so we're going there." Faith stopped. "Which means, we're going to have to follow you, Xander, as you're the only one who knows where she lives."

Xander agreed. "I guess there's one bright side to being waylaid. At least we can't be followed by any vamps now."

In their haste to find safety, they had forgotten that there were other people who could follow them.

It might not have encouraged any of the other Scoobies to know that Amy was living in the same house that her mother had held her captive in for nearly a month two years ago. It would have made Hermione very edgy to know just how thick the aura of dark magic was around that place. But ultimately beggars could not be choosers, and it did help make the place a bit more pliable to be a sanctuary.

Harry knew they wouldn't have been able to do as much to keep Amy's house off the radar - it would have been very suspicious for a house to just disappear the way the Black family residence had. Still, the sight of the door- fluctuating was the only word that came to mind- when he reached for it made him wonder just what the others might have come up with.

There was a long hesitation and Harry was beginning to wonder what they would do when the door opened a crack. "Where the hell have you guys been?" Ron demanded.

"Being held hostage. You?" Faith replied.

It was still a long thirty seconds before the flickering around the door stopped. "Get in, quick!"

They needed no second bidding. As they entered the house, though, another bizarre sensation befell each of them. Harry would have likened it to Snape's attempts to infiltrate his mind. Faith and Xander thought it resembled going through a metal detector. Whatever it was, it was over very quickly, followed by the entrance of a greatly relieved Hermione and Amy.

"Buffy's been scouring town for the last two hours for you!" Hermione told them.

"Did any of you even try to stop her in her condition?" Xander demanded.

"She's Buffy. You really want to get into an argument with her?" Willow said resignedly. "And speaking of which-"

She whacked Xander on the shoulder. "What the heck were you thinking, sneaking out with Drusilla and Spike out there?" she said heatedly.

"I so wish that they were our biggest problems," Faith told them. "As it is, we've got another issue. Where's Giles?"

Giles emerged from the back room, with Ron a few steps before them. "It's good to see all of you," he told them. "We were all very worried."

"You've got a right to be." This wasn't going to be easy, even considering Giles' burning his bridges. "The Watcher's Council took us prisoner."

A look of anger and dull resignation appeared on Giles' face. "They _what?"_

"Oh, it gets better." Briefly Xander filled them all in on what had happened while they were in captivity. "Do your friends in London usually do things this stupid?"

"I've known them use anachronistic methods, and act with callous disregard to Slayers wellbeing, but this," Giles looked angrier then they'd ever seen him, "this is far below even their incompetence."

"Honestly, they'd fit right in with Umbridge and the rest of her bunch," Harry told them. "They think this is some kind of parochial business that'll blow over if they just follow the rules."

"It's worse than that," Giles told them. "The three men who carried out the majority of the violence- they handle wetworks for the Watchers. They've practically got a blank check to kill with impunity."

"Even a Slayer?" Xander had been there, and he still wasn't sure he believed it.

Giles' looked like he was a step away from doing some damage on his own. "A year ago, I wouldn't have thought so. But in the last group of reports I sent out, the Council has made repeated inquiries as to their refusal to follow orders. I have heard that on occasion the Council has removed the less flexible elements among the Watchers, but I never for a moment-"

"You know what a Cruciamentum is," Hermione said slowly. "It's not much of a stretch to go from letting a Slayer die for being too weak to getting rid of one who's too strong."

"They're not going to stop with just me," Faith had been very quiet since the assault at the warehouse, but now she was starting to sound like her old self. "They're going to goddamn clean house. Which means that if B runs into them -"

"I think we should worry more about what she would do to _them,_" Xander argued.

"These people know what a Slayer's capable of," Faith reminded them. "And they won't hesitate to kill someone. We both know B will."

"Have we really come to this?" Willow asked sadly. "There's a war going on with a real bad guy, and the people who are supposed to be good are all trying to kill us?"

Harry felt sorry for Willow, and also worried. This was supposedly their trump card against the Dark Lord, and she seemed more fragile then ever. But this was not the time worry about their bigger problems with more immediate concerns at hand. "Did Buffy tell you where she was going?" he asked instead.

"She was going to start with Angel's and work her way south," Ron told them. "So I guess the question is, do we go after her or-"

"How do we do that without knowing where she is?" Harry reminded them.

"I could scry for her." Everybody looked at Amy, who seemed a little more grounded than the rest of them. "She left one of her stakes here. I can use that as a bond and put it over a map of town to figure out where she is."

"You know how to do that?" Willow sounded a little awed.

None of the Hogwarts students had the heart to tell Amy that scrying was a practice that had fallen out of favor with the wizarding community, and was considered archaic even by wandless wizards. Besides, if something worked., there wasn't much point in mocking it. "How long will it take you?" Hermione asked.

"I can be ready in five minutes," she told them. "Question is, once I find her, can you Apparate there?"

It was a legitimate question. Despite the fact that they had improved their Apparation skills, none of the wizards had the ability to appear somewhere they hadn't been- hence the reason Harry had run with Faith and Xander to and from the waterfront. And they still no idea where Angel lived or even if he was still there.

"We'll worry about that when we get there," Ron replied. When Hermione and Harry just stared at him, he shrugged. "The issue is finding her before the Watchers do. From what Faith told us, they won't use sticks and swords to take out Buffy."

This much they could all agree on. So two minutes later, they were all standing around Amy, watching as she used a crystal over a block-by-block map of Sunnydale. And say what you will about scrying being a dead art form, but she was good at it. In less than a minute, she had a location for Buffy.

"The better section of town. Not that far from that mansion," Xander looked like he was trying not to roll his eyes.

"Is that where Angel, um, resides?" Hermione asked.

Xander nodded. "Glad to see she's got her priorities in order," he added sarcastically.

"Like it or not, we'd probably have to visit him anyway," Harry reminded them. "Last I checked, he's still probably our best lead to the Horcrux."

"If they didn't kill him last night," When they all looked at Faith, she added: "Not saying they'd have a snowball's chance against him, but if they are cleaning house..."

"Again begging the question: what's the quickest way there?" Giles put forth.

Harry wasn't that surprised when Hermione stepped forward. "I have been studying to get my Auror's license early, after all," she reminded them.  
>But I think I'm going to need someone's help."<p>

"What now?" Faith asked.

"I need to be outside when I do this. If I don't Apparate precisely, I could end up ten feet above the place, or right in the middle of one of the walls." Hermione paused. "Of course, the hard part is going to come when I try to bring her back."

"Forget that," Harry told her. "All we need to do is _warn _Buffy and Angel. I think the two of them can take care of themselves against even the worst of these boys."

Not even Giles could argue with that. "Just go, tell them, and come back," he agreed. "Lord knows we've got enough to deal with other than that."

"And while you're there, ask Angel who has the Horcrux," Ron demanded. "Cause if the Watchers have it..." He didn't have to finish the sentence.

Hermione walked outside. Harry was about to follow her out when all of a sudden his scar started to ache.

"Crap, not now," he muttered in a voice too low for anyone to hear. Of course, he had forgotten Faith.

"HP, what's going on?" she said, sounding concerned.

He shook his head, which was beginning to feel like it weighed a ton. "Get Hermione outside," he muttered. "She has to get to Buffy and Angel."

Faith, bless her, decided not to argue. "Be very careful, especially if this thing of his does work both ways."

Harry was about to agreed, when he suddenly he was bent over by another bolt of pain. Suddenly-

_"He risks a great amount by keeping me waiting." Once again, Voldemort seemed to be resisting a very strong urge to start ripping the head off subordinates. And considering that Bellatrix appeared to be the only one nearby, one could argue that it wouldn't affect her sanity that much._

_"Now that's not a very nice thing to say!"_

_It took Harry several seconds to place the speaker, mainly because he seemed so out of place in these surroundings. He looked to be a tall man in his late forties, neat brown hair, and dressed in a suit in tie. He sounded far too cheerful for a meeting with the Dark Lord._

_"Remember, a kind word will get you a lot further than a blow to the head. Of course, a kind word _and _a blow to the head will probably get you even further." The man actually chuckled, and the laugh sounded genuinely amused instead of criminally insane. "That Groucho. Man, what a character he was."_

_"I didn't come here to be lectured about Muggle humor," Voldemort again took a tone that was not to be trifled with._

_But, just like everybody else that Voldemort seemed to be dealing with whenever Harry had one of these visions, the speaker didn't seem to care about Voldemort's feelings at all. "That's the problem with all you evil bosses. You need to laugh more. It's one of the reasons I've lasted as long as I have." Another smile. "Well, not the only reason-"_

_"Could we get to the point, Richard?" Voldemort seemed to be exercising both patience and deference, not qualities Harry associated with the Dark Lord at all._

_"The point, Tom, is several years ago, you asked for me to hold on to a certain item for you." Suddenly the man was all seriousness. "I didn't ask about it's nature or its worth, and I continued to hold on to it, even after you went on to assume your, shall we say, previous condition. When you made your grand reappearance a few years back- and by the way, as someone who played a not inconsiderable role in keeping certain people off your back, it wasn't very gracious of you to return, and not inform me of what's going on-"_

_"I had more considerable concerns at home."_

_"Just as I do." All bonhomie vanished from the man's voice. "You're not the only one with plans and timetables. This could have been a major inconvenience to me."_

_"Which is why we're talking now."_

_"No, we're talking now, because last night, one of my warehouses was broken into. Several illegal magicks were let loose in my city. Death Eaters have been running around, half cocked, blasting my people for no reason. It's only then I learn what exactly it is I've been carrying for the past twenty years."_

_Now Voldemort actually seemed a bit nervous. "You know?"_

_"Didn't fall off the turnip truck, Tom. You're not the first person to try this particular brand of magic, though- and please do bear this in mind- you may well be the last."_

"_You'd __best__ be very careful about what you say, Your Honor. " Bellatrix sounded different than she had a few minutes earlier. The last phrase didn't sound sarcastic or insane._

_"Miss Lestrange, I'm willing to be understanding of your situation_, but the _youngsters__,__ they have this term__:__ you're on my turf, you obey my rules." Who the hell was this guy?_

_"You don't want to test me, Richard."_

_"On the contrary. The Tom Riddle I knew was never afraid of challenging authority, which is the reason you've been giving me the fisheye since I walked in." Richard smiled. "By the way, that's a lovely snake you're wearing."_

_Did Voldemort seem the slightest bit wary before he responded? "Watch what you say."_

_Another smile, much bigger. "Very poor choice of words."_

_There was a sound that was a mixture of a snarl and a hiss. Before anyone seemed to realize that Richard had just spoken Parseltongue, Nagini struck forward._

_"Don't!" Voldemort yelled._

_But Nagini paid him no mind and stuck her fangs into the man's neck_

_Richard hadn't done anything.: Whisper, try to dodge or fight back. And before Harry could realize that Richard had ordered Nagini to attack, the snake slithered away, revealing two large holes in the man's neck._

_Which seconds later seemed to fill themselves in._

_Even Bellatrix was struck dumb by what she had seen. Voldemort was unnerved too, but he managed to hide it a little better. "You did it, didn't you?"_

_"I would think that would be obvious. And really, that was probably the most insensitive side effect of your little excursion. You know how complicated these incantations are. And I was in such a desperate need of a haircut, too. Now I won't be able to get one until..." He trailed off. "Well, I guess by then I really won't need one anymore. My bad."_

_Voldemort swallowed for a moment. Harry was pretty sure he felt a single drop of sweat trail down his forehead. By his standards, this was tantamount to wetting his pants in fear. "So we're at an impasse."_

_"So it would seem." The silence seemed to stretch out intolerably. "I'll make this simple. You are here under a flag of truce. I will honor that for another twenty-four hours, long enough for your associates to obtain the item and whatever other unpleasant elements might be attached. You will then leave my town, and never come back. "_

_"The same dark magicks that protect you also protect me."_

_"I'm fully aware that I can't kill you, Tom, just as you're aware that I can just as easily make the next few months very unpleasant. And considering the precariousness of your position, I don't think you can afford to lose any further status." Richard looked at Voldemort with the kind of look that he had administered on the unworthy so many time before. "We clear, boy?"_

_Voldemort clearly wanted to say much more. All that came from his mouth was: "Yes." _

And just as Harry wondered who it was who had just obtained a hold over the Dark Lord, the vision began to fade, and he was looking up at the faces of his friends. It probably said something for his condition that he was most grateful to see Faith.

"How's your head?" she asked, concerned.

"I'm beginning to long for the days when Dementors caused me the most trouble," he said, only half in jest.

"I'm almost afraid to ask who Voldemort was visiting now," Ron replied.

"Another guy in a suit," Harry told them.

"Another trip to the evil lawyers?" By now Xander and Giles had been briefed on all of the visions Harry had been having.

"Just one. Apparently on his own. And this one had enough power to have Voldemort and Bellatrix cowed." Harry then related what he had seen in as much detail as he could.

"His body it just- reformed?" Willow seemed to be having trouble with this. "What kind of magic do you need to do that?"

"I don't know," Harry admitted. "But Voldemort didn't seem that surprised by what was he seeing. Just that this- Richard had it now."

"And just to make things extra fun, he knows what a Horcrux is." Ron replied. "Which means he'll probably be scouring Sunnydale for it, too."

Hermione chose that moment to Apparate back in, struggling under the weight of an unconscious Buffy.

"Not that we're not glad to see both of you, but was knocking her out strictly necessary?" Xander demanded.

"Trust me, she wasn't going anywhere otherwise," Hermione told them grimly. "I had to stupefy her twice as it was. She's not going to be happy when she wakes up."

"Join the club," Xander told them. "While you were out, so was Harry."

Hermione nearly dropped Buffy. "What happened this time?"

"Short answer, Voldemort's is within shouting distance of Sunnydale, if he's isn't in the city already." After everybody had stiffened at that, Harry added: "And that _is _the good news. The bad news is, there's someone else in Sunnydale with at least as much power as him, who knows about the Horcrux, and who appears to be indestructible. And just for fun, I still have no idea who he is."

"He referred to this place as his town?" Giles asked.

"So does every dime-store villain who tries to take up house in Sunnydale," Xander said resignedly. "For all we know, he's just leasing, with an option to take over."

By now, Hermione had placed Buffy down in the hall, and had returned to them. "His town? Those were his exact words?"

"What are you thinking?" Ron asked.

"When I caught up with Buffy, she was sneaking around Angel's residence. It had been cordoned off, with police tape and barriers," Hermione told them. "She clearly wasn't going to let a little thing like that stand in her way, even though she'd been held in custody more than once- hence the double stupefy."

"I'm with Ron. What are you getting at?" Faith demanded.

"Who would know about what's kept in all the warehouses and museums in Sunnydale? Who would be privy to using the police in key areas of this town? Who has been keeping tabs on everything in Sunnydale for God knows how long, and who by the way, has the first name of Richard?"

There was a long hesitation, then Willow saw the copy of the newspaper that was lying in the hall. On it was a picture of a City Council meeting being overseen by a man in his forties with a kind smile. "Wait a minute. You're saying that the Mayor of Sunnydale is the one that Voldemort has met and is terrified of?" she said in utter disbelief.

"My uncle Rory was right. All of the evil people in the world _are _in local politics.," Xander replied.

Harry didn't have to answer that retort. The man in the photo was the same one that he had just seen with Voldemort. Every time he had these visions he was seeing Voldemort's enemies; why couldn't one of them be someone with some character?

"Voldemort's here, which means he could be knocking on our door any minute," Ron replied. "What do we do?"

It wasn't a hard decision at all. "Exactly what we came here to do," Harry replied. "We find the Horcrux and destroy it. Then we get the hell out of here."

"So all we have to do is scour the town of Sunnydale and hope we find a magical cup ahead of the vampires, wizards, Spike, the police, and the deadliest creature on earth," Xander replied. "And I thought this would be difficult."

"First comes the hard part," Hermione replied. "We have to wake Buffy and tell her that Angel might be in danger."

"That might actually help." Everyone looked at Faith. "Only thing in this town meaner than B? B when she finds out someone's going after her boyfriend."


	17. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

Buffy _was_ incredibly pissed when Harry and the others roused her, though whether it was from having been stupefied, worry about Angel, or hearing of the arrival of Voldemort, was hard to gauge.

Her reaction to the fact that Richard Wilkins III, the Mayor of Sunnydale, was apparently the power behind everything else that was going on, was instantaneous. "You're kidding, right?"

"Voldemort's clearly wary of him," Harry reminded them. "Which means that anybody else with a lick of sense would run screaming from him."

"This is one of those rules that doesn't apply to Slayers, of course," Faith replied.

"Really? What exactly are you going to do when the only thing a stake does to this guy is give him splinters?" Xander reminded her.

"I'm clear that I can't just beat this guy up," Buffy told them. "May I remind you what we did to the Judge?"

The idea of shooting him with a rocket launcher was immensely appealing - despite everything that he knew about Voldemort, Harry had begun to wonder whether judicious use of a bazooka might resolve all their problems.

"What happens if he does the whole Terminator bit to us?" Willow reminded them. "I'm still not convinced Arnie's dead."

"Let's not get bogged down in trivia," Giles reminded them. "The Mayor gave Voldemort twenty four hours before the gloves come off. It's also clear that he at least suspects that Angel is in possession of the Horcrux. What is not clear is whether he has possession of Angel." He turned to Buffy. "Do you have any idea whether the police have him?"

"I didn't think the cops had the first idea of how to handle the undead until a few minutes ago," Buffy told them. "Still, they'd have to be really careful to grab Angel when it's not even noon. "'

"Not to mention armed to the teeth," Ron told them. "Soul or not, Angel doesn't strike me as the type to just surrender."

"They're the police and they live on a Hellmouth. If ray guns existed, I'm sure they'd be packing them." Xander told them.

"They won't kill them. Not until they get what they want. And you're right, Angel won't give up without a fight. Of course, " Buffy's voice dropped, "that's assuming the cops find him."

Hermione didn't have to think long to realize what she was talking about. "I don't know if Imperium curses or Vitaserum work on vampires," she told them. "We got interrupted during our test last night, remember?"

"We also don't know how many times you can cast one of those unforgivable spells," Buffy said grimly. "How hard do you think you can curse someone who's already dead?"

That was a question Harry had been hoping they would avoid ever having to answer, but he knew that Bellatrix- with or without her relations- wouldn't have any trouble putting Angel through a torture that would make her time in Azkaban seem like a weekend in Hogsmead. Personal feelings about Angel aside, nobody deserved that. They needed to find him.

"Do you have something of Angel's?" Hermione asked.

Buffy looked around, and then reached into her pocket. Eventually, she removed a small ring. Willow looked a little charmed; Xander and Giles had to hide a glimpse of revulsion.

"Should we even ask?" Harry asked Faith.

"Better not too," the Slayer replied

Hermione turned to Amy. "Will this scrying thing work on vampires too?" she asked.

"It should," she told them,. "Same principle. Let me get the maps ready."

"This helps us find Angel. How do we get past whoever's got him?" Willow reminded them. "I mean, we won't know who we're up against."

"We're not going to pop in and out," Buffy told them. "This time we go a full assault."

"And what happens if Voldemort is there?" Giles reminded them.

"There's going to have to be some recon obviously," Faith replied. "Which means we're gonna have to do this in stages."

Buffy looked a little shocked at this. "When did you officially join the cloak-and dagger brigade?"

"Since Sunnydale got more evil on its streets than a Roger Corman production," Faith replied. "Vampires I can deal with, Watchers I can deal with, wizards I can deal with, the cops I can deal with-"

"We get the picture," Hermione told her. "How exactly should we do this?"

"Where's the invisibility cloak?" Faith asked.

Willow went to get it.

"Do we try and rescue him now or do we wait until dark?" Hermione asked. "Either way, we're taking a big risk."

"I think we have to do it now." When everyone shot Buffy a look, she responded: "This isn't just my feelings. We're in a race for that Horcrux. Every minute we spend planning, you can be damn sure Voldemort's using to scour this city. And he probably has tricks to finding it that none of you know."

None of them could argue with that. A few moments later, Amy yelled out: "Got it!"

As they walked in, Hermione looked at Harry and Ron: "Maybe I should recommend that we teach this is at Hogwarts."

"You won't be so happy when you learn where they have him," Amy replied grimly. "According to this, he's at City Hall."

"Well, at least we know for sure who has him," Xander told them. "Question is, what kind of Rainbow Coalition of nasties has the Mayor of Sunnydale assembled?"

Harry considered this. "It has to be big. The way he talked he's been in Sunnydale a long time. Long enough to form alliances. Certainly long enough for Voldemort to feel safe putting one of the Horcruxes in his care, even if he lied about it."

"And he's gotta have mojo considering how unnerved he is by this guy," Buffy replied.

"The guy took a snake bite to the throat and didn't even flinch," Xander reminded them. "The Mayor has to have some serious game. How exactly do we get past that?"

"We don't," Harry raised an eyebrow when he heard this from Faith. "Just because I didn't finish high school doesn't make me an idiot. This guy's got a weakness, we'll find it; right now, we have to handle this carefully."

"Couldn't agree more," Buffy replied. "How do we do this?"

Even though it was little more than a variation on what they had done to break into the warehouse the previous day, they all had some objections about what was going to come next. Mainly because, as Willow put it, the danger level had jumped by about a million.. But, as Faith and Buffy pointed out, this was a search and rescue; it was going to be more dangerous no matter how many of their people were running this.

Once again, Hermione agreed to do the Apparating, this time taking Buffy and the Invisibility Cloak with her. Faith had offered to do it because she wasn't sure Buffy could keep a level head, but as Hermione had then pointed out, Buffy was a little smaller than Faith, and the Cloak would more fully cover her without much trouble. The irony of Buffy going into danger because she looked like such a harmless little girl wasn't lost on any of them.

Willow and Xander had wanted to go back to Buffy's house and get the camera equipment that they had used when they had liberated the Horcrux in the first place.. It had taken a considerable amount of effort on everyone else's part to remind them just how dangerous the streets of Sunnydale were. Fortunately, Willow had brought her laptop with her, and figured that she would try and tap into City Hall's security feed- a roundabout way of doing the same thing. Buffy was left with her head-piece and a couple of stakes- her equivalent of going in heavy.

Despite everything that she had seen Buffy do, Hermione still needed to be persuaded to Apparate back to Amy's. It had taken some major reassurances by both Slayers and Giles to convince her that this might be the best method of getting this phase done. Invisible, and thanks to the adjustments Willow had made to the earpiece, inaudible, she could get a good layout of the situation, report back for the cavalry (such as was) to come in.

"And if one of the things she happens to see is Angel being tortured?" Amy had argued.

"Then we get there as fast as fucking possible," Faith countered. "And hope B leaves us with something to attack."

Hermione looked like she was going to argue that this kind of thinking was why they had worried about sending Buffy on this mission in the first place, except that the Slayer herself chose that moment to reply: "I'm in the building."

Xander looked at his watch. "Less than three minutes. That's gotta be some kind of record."

"I don't keep track," Giles removed his glasses. "Buffy, what do you see?"

Silence for a moment. Then: "I don't see any vampires, but this place is crawling with cops."

"Well, our policy on not hurting people is still in play. Keep your head down."

At that moment, Willow spoke up. "Okay, I just got us in. I laugh in the general direction of whoever designed this particular firewall." She paused. "Of course, Buffy now has to tell me where exactly she is, cause I won't be able to find her with those cameras."

"Back entrance, room adjacent to the fire escape." Buffy replied quickly. "I'm heading right."

"Queuing it up now," Willow then did just that. Harry was actually starting to think that Willow's hacking skills might prove more useful in the long run than whatever dark magic she might possess. Maybe they could find a way to combine the two. "Start making a circuit of the place,"

There were a few moments of silence as Buffy progressed, giving directions almost randomly. As it turned out, City Hall was nearly as labyrinthine as the Ministry, though by comparison there were far fewer people, most of whom were probably not trained in any kind of magical arts. Harry was about to suggest that maybe they'd over thought the situation, when suddenly he spotted a man in a suit looking extremely nervous, much in the same way Neville did when he ever was about to head into Potions at Hogwarts.

"This guy knows something," Buffy told them suddenly.

"What makes you so sure of that?" Hermione countered.

"Because, unlike half the people in this building, he looks like he's worried about something here," Buffy told them. "He looks like someone who knows where the bodies are buried."

"Only on a Hellmouth could that statement be taken literally," Giles pointed out. "Follow him, but tread carefully."

Buffy did so, and clearly wasn't that surprised when the trail led her to a room with a plaque on the door that said: "Mayor Wilkins" It still took several moments for him to gather up enough courage to knock on the door. This guy was clearly smarter than the average Sunnydale citizen.

"Who's there?" The voice was gentle but firm, and unmistakably the one Harry had heard in his vision

"I-It's me, sir," the man told them.

"Come in, Allan, " How benign the Mayor sounded. Would Harry have been suspicious if he hadn't seen him with Voldemort? Would anybody in Sunnydale? But Allan clearly had some idea; it took him another several seconds to open the door and walk in.

No sooner had he done so than Buffy put one of the extendable Ears she had borrowed from them right next to the door. She also had the good sense to stay quiet.

"Sir, um, we're having a problem in regard to the operation that you've put into effect," Allan began.

"Allan, we've been through this before," The Mayor sounded a little agitated, but immediately changed tenor. "You should be more courteous. Ask how I am today, discuss the weather, let me ask after the wellbeing of your wife. Courtesy is the benchmark of public life. Without it, we'd have chaos."

"I'm sorry, sir, it's just, well, you've been a bit agitated the last few days, and I-I didn't think it was my place. " Talking about banalities didn't seem to calm Allan down; if anything, he sounded more nervous.

"I have been something of a bear these last few days," Mayor Wilkins seemed genuinely concerned about this. "I'm sorry if I've made things so difficult. But you know how it is when you have to abruptly change your plans. Niceties get thrown by the wayside. I'll try to do better."

_"That's _the man who threatened Voldemort?" Ron echoed the general disbelief in the room. "He sounds like he's going to ask the man out for scones."

"Now, what exactly are the problems we are having with our unexpected guests?"

"Per your instructions, we have the force sweeping the city looking for these fugitives," Finch told them. "Most of the people are Lowe's, so they're not arguing, but there's this detective from violent crimes who has been raising questions about the cover story we arranged."

"How much trouble do you think he can cause?" Wilkins' tone hadn't changed, but there was something subtly different in the conversation- Harry wished to God he could see the man's face.

"Most of the men are freezing him out, as we instructed, but this detective history. Asked a lot of questions about those murders that took place at Sunnydale High last April," Allan got nervous again. "Keeps talking about bringing in the FBI. Says he knows a couple of people whose business this is."

There was a brief silence. "What's this detective's name?"

"Um, Herbert McCloskey."

"Well, it strikes me that this man shows initiative. And, like I've always said, there's a place in this town for people with this sort of drive." The tone was benign, but again the change was subtle. "Would you tell McCloskey to have a meeting with the City Council today so we can have a discussion? Around two o'clock?"

Allan started swallowing again. "Y-yes sir, I'll get right on that," he told him. A moment later, the door opened and Allan came out looking positively terrified.

"Oh, and Allan?" the Mayor asked. 'Could you make sure that Trick is in attendance? Tell him this his chance to balance the scales."

Allan turned a shade of white that Harry mostly associated with the undead. "Y-y-yes. Of course sir."

"And when you have a chance, check in on our guests. See if they're making any progress."

By the time the door was closed, Allan was all but sprinting.

"OK, the Mayor's definitely evil," Willow replied.

"Never mind that." Giles finally spoke. "Follow that man. Find out where he's going. Eventually, he'll lead us to Angel."

None of them could argue with that.

It took less than a minute for them to find the man. He had ducked into another office that proclaimed him to be Allan Finch, deputy mayor.

"No wonder this guy's spooked," Xander replied. "If I had to tiptoe around that guy for God knows how long."

"Yeah, he's definitely seems freaked out," There was an element in Buffy's voice that everybody was having trouble identifying. No one, however, was expected her to do what she did next: knock on the door, and take off the cloak.

"J-just a minute." The deputy mayor was apparently so unnerved by just having been in the same room with his boss that he decided to forego all of the caution that seemed to involve living on a Hellmouth. For thirty seconds later, he opened the door.

Finch didn't faint when he saw who his guest was, but it was a damn near thing. One thing was for sure, he knew who Buffy was.

"What the he-he-" It took him ten seconds before he gave up trying to finish the word, and instead yanked Buffy inside, and slammed the door shut. Fortunately, the Slayer had not removed the Extendable Ear.

"I guess we can save the introductions," Buffy said.

"Do you know how many people there are in this building who want to kill you right now?" Finch was trying to sound angry; he sounded a lot more hysterical.

"Aren't you supposed to be one of them?" Buffy countered.

"I didn't sign up for this," Finch replied. "I grew up in Sunnydale, I know how bad this place can be. I got into politics because I thought I could make a difference with this whole damn system."

"You grew up in Sunnydale?" Buffy seemed to be having the most difficulty processing this. Privately, Harry couldn't blame her; he'd been in this town less than a week and he couldn't wait to leave.

"I thought I had a chance. Then I learn the real reason the last Deputy Mayor left his position."

"Not sure I want to know this," Willow ventured cautiously.

"What happened?"

"He got eaten! Sacrificed to some lesser demon that the boss made a deal with. Same thing he does with all the Deputies!" Finch sounded like he was a beat away from bursting into tears.

Buffy now seemed genuinely concerned. Officially, this had just become her problem. "And I'm guessing resigning is out of the question."

"You don't resign; you "depart to spend more time with the family"," Finch sounded bitter. "God knows who he lets loose on them. Of course, that was before last night's little ceremony."

Chances to know your enemy this well did not fall in your lap every day. "What did he do?"

"Hell if I know. Closed door session with half a dozen shamans. But whatever it is, it was big. For the next hundred days, anyone tries to lay a glove on him, they're going to be even sorrier."

Buffy wisely didn't tell Finch she already knew this. "What has he done?"

"Something that's he been planning for a very long time. And whatever it is, he wants to make sure that all who work with him are 'rewarded.' Finch gave a hysterical laugh. "Probably that means he'll kill you himself instead of letting some flunky do it!"

"All right," Buffy spoke slowly; even though this guy was basically harmless, she didn't want to show her hand any more than she had to. "What do you want me to do?"

"You're the goddamned vampire slayer!" Finch was all but screaming now. "You're telling me you weren't thinking something like that when you waltzed in here?"

Now was clearly not the time to tell this guy that had been pretty close to the case. "You want my help? The vampire that the Mayor had brought here earlier today?" Buffy started. "Tell me where he is, and how to get him out. Then we will talk about solving your problems."

"Buffy?" Giles got on the line.. "I realize that this is a golden opportunity, but are you sure that we can trust this man?"

"The guy's one of the Mayor's confidants, he's scared shitless, and he knows where Angel is," Buffy countered. "Add to that the fact he knows that I could probably break him in half without mussing up my manicure- I think we'd be complete idiots _not_ to do this."

None of them could argue this. Faith looked like she might for a moment, but when she spoke: "All right. But as of this moment, we just called on the second team."

"We've got the keys to the kingdom, Faith," Buffy countered.

"That gets you _into _whatever room he's in. You got any plans on how to get out?" Faith countered.

It was clear that Buffy hadn't. "Get into position. But let's be clear. We don't do anything until I see Angel."

"Agreed." Faith turned from Willow. "Hermione, you and I are up."

"How long will it take you two to get where you need to be?"

"Five, maybe six minutes," When Hermione raised an eyebrow at this, Faith added: "What can I say? I move fast."

"Just remember, you're not going to have either invisibility or disguises," Harry reminded them. "If you get spotted-"

"We won't," Faith sounded completely self assured. "Have I let you guys down so far?"

This was the kind of rhetoric that begged for a response, but no one did. Apparently, everybody had taken the idea that no one wanted to jinx things. Unfortunately, they didn't have enough technology to equip the two of them, so they could only monitor them up to a point from here on.

Finch apparently sensed this. "I know that you and your little rogues gallery have been pretty good at handling the demon population," he admitted. "Hell, the Boss has actually been counting on it a couple of times. Believe me when I tell you, you'd better be as good as you think you are."

"I don't have to be. I've got you. And if you really want my help, you'd better earn it." Buffy whirled around. "Talk to me about how many guards you've got in the building. Human and otherwise."

Finch didn't look any less nervous to hear this, but like Buffy, he needed this. "A dozen cops belonging to the Mayor's Special Detail."

"I thought the cops in this town were recruited for their idiocy," Buffy couldn't help saying.

"The ones who want to have a future in this department know what to report. That doesn't make them stupid. And the ones who do the cleanup for this town, they work here. Armed with riot guns, flamethrowers, and crossbows."

"We can get around that," Buffy started.

"You won't get a chance. They all know what you look like. They have instructions to shoot you on sight." Finch looked right at her. "Unless the rumors are true, and you are faster than a speeding bullet."

Buffy decided not to deal with that right now. "Non-humans."

"Wizards don't qualify?" Finch shook his head. "Mayor keeps a special reserve of sorcerers around, and for the last few weeks, he's been recruiting from overseas."

"And now the Death Eaters have officially become even more evil, if such a thing were possible," Xander mumbled.

"They're also part of the reason I can't just walk over to the room they're keeping Angel in and say get out." Finch replied. "They've got it masked behind some kind of glamour - you walk past it, and your vision starts to haze up."

Buffy considered this. "We might be able to get past it. Please tell me I'm not talking out of my ass," she whispered into her earpiece.

"I believe we can manage that," Ron told them. "Hermione..." he started.

"I think so. What about the vampires?" Faith had just appeared on the camera.

"As for vampires, the boss keeps a dozen or so on staff," Finch told them. "I believe you've already met Mr. Trick."

"Yeah, and I'm ready for a rematch," Buffy told them. "The others are at his level?"

"How the hell should I know?" Finch looked at the others as though they were crazy. "The Mayor generally does his recruiting from the vampires who are smart enough to not fight you in the first place. You'd be surprised how big a pool that gives him to pick from."

"I've a feeling we're about to find out," Buffy whispered into her earpiece.

"I thought we weren't going to storm the castle yet," Xander put forth.

"We may not have a choice," Willow reminded them. "Hermione, wherever you are, you better be able to do this."

"So wherever your friends are, they're going to have to be invisible in order to get by all these threats," Finch didn't seem to be coherent anymore. "Of course, bear in mind, once you've got him, you're still on top of a fucking Hellmouth!"

"You want us to get you out of this mess, Mr. Finch," Buffy argued, "you've got to give as much as possible. Which begins with you taking me to whatever room your boss is keeping Angel in."

"Didn't I just say..."

"Let me worry about how we're going to get in," Buffy countered. "For starters..."

She ducked back under the invisibility cloak. "Now remember I'm going to be standing a few feet behind you," Buffy told Finch. "Don't make me remind you."

Finch clearly had been doing this for a while- he barely even blinked at the discombobulated voice apparently coming from nowhere. He was more troubled when his phone rang. "Did I stutter?" Buffy replied.

Using what appeared to be a superhuman amount of effort, Finch picked up the phone. "Yes?" It took several seconds for him to react to this. "I haven't gotten around to-" Pause "I didn't realize that she was in the building. She just walked right in?"

For a horrible moment, they all thought that they were talking about Faith or Hermione. The next words dissuaded them of that. "Are you sure that it's good idea to bring those two together?" Apparently Finch realized that in his shock that he had forgotten his place. "Of course, sir. If you say so. Right away." He didn't so much hang up the phone as drop it on the cradle.

"Have they caught one of us?" Buffy's voice demanded.

"One of the overseas visitors is here. Lestrange, I believe is her name."

Harry wasn't sure what she was doing here, but he didn't believe in coincidences. "Can you find her on the cameras?" he demanded of Willow.

"I don't know," Willow reminded him. "You're the only one here who can now identify her. "

"Only bad things can come with her arrival," Harry argued.

"We've got a mission. Right now, we'll have to deal with her when she shows up." Willow was trying to look sternly at them, and not doing a good job at them. "Resolve face?"

"Don't argue with her," Xander countered. "Besides, she's right."

"Regardless, we've got other issues," Giles told them. He pointed to the monitor.

Faith was being stealthy, by her standards and probably even Buffy's. She was walking very carefully through the hallways, ducking and hiding behind walls rather than hitting people at random. She was wearing the second earpiece (Hermione was less likely to need it than she was) when she finally whispered into it: "This would probably make a lot more sense if you could tell me where the hell I was going."

"Now is the time you start walking," Buffy ordered Finch.

Finch took a deep breath. "Where exactly is your friend?"

Willow looked around. "First floor, just shy of the closet."

"They're keeping him on the top floor. Tell them to meet us at the elevator in two minutes. Make sure that they take the stairs. The Mayor has guards at the end of every hall."

Willow passed on this information to Faith.

"Where's Hermione?" Harry asked.

"I left her outside. She said that she would find another way in."

Both Harry and Ron were a little alarmed at this. "How? She's not you!"

And at that moment, Hermione appeared down the hall, trying to look as invisible as a Slayer and, frankly, doing a piss-poor job at it. Then again, she didn't have Polyjuice Potion this time.

Somehow - none of them ever got a clear answer as to how- the two women managed to run into each other at the staircase.

"Christ, Herm, how the hell-?"

"Sorry. I Apparated into a janitor's closet on the second floor. This seemed like the quickest way to find you."

"Yeah. But not exactly the safest."

Hermione actually scoffed. "Since when have you worried about doing something safely?"

"As fascinating as this conversation is," Giles jutted in. "Buffy needs your assistance. You need to get to the top floor."

Faith needed no second bidding, and began to pull Hermione to the stairwell. "I take it Angel's on the top floor," Hermione replied.

"You are smart," Faith countered.

"City Hall has three floors."

Their luck, which had been freakishly good up to now, ended when they got to the second floor, where they ran into two men in suits. This in itself was not disastrous. The problem started when one of them asked: "Do you ladies have a pass to be back here?"

Hermione and Faith had been prepared to be charged, attacked, or had guns pointed at them, but not to be talked to in a calm level tone. Surprisingly, Hermione recovered quickest. "We're friends of Mr. Finch's children. We were supposed to meet them earlier."

"Well, his office is on the first floor. If you want, we could take you there."

"No, um, that's fine, we'll meet with them downstairs," Hermione said slowly.

"All right, but you really shouldn't be wandering around. Important work gets done here."

Hermione later told the others that the first thought to go through her mind was that this was city hall in a small town. Were they developing plans to bomb Los Angeles back here? She was, however, prepared to walk away, except at that moment, a security guard appeared. "Um, we have a Code Blue in the building," he told the men in suits. "I'm going to have to ask that you gentlemen return to your office."

The guard turned to them. "And you ladies, you're going to have to come with me."

At this point, there was no longer any chance of getting out of this unheard and unseen. Hermione tried to carry on with the charade nevertheless. "Oh, I'm sorry. My friend and I didn't realize that we were in your way. We'll just be getting out of here."

"No, I'm sorry. All unauthorized personnel-"

Faith whispered something to Hermione, who sighed, reached for her wand, and yelled: "_Stupefy!__"_three times in succession. In a matter of seconds, all three men were on the floor unconscious.

"What happened to doing this subtly?" Giles demanded.

"This _was _subtle," Faith reminded them. "My way would have involved hitting these people very hard in the head, and hoping that they stayed out."

"Never mind that," Hermione replied as the three of them ran up the stairs. "Which room are they keeping Angel in?"

By now, they had almost forgotten what Buffy was doing. Willow managed to flick her camera up to the third floor where a frantic Deputy Mayor was standing just a few feet away from- a seemingly unbroken wall.

If Finch had been appalled to see Buffy appear on his doorstep, his eyes all but fell out of his head when he saw Faith and Hermione running down towards him. "Are you out of your goddamn minds?" he all but shouted. "You know how many people in the building-"

"Spare us the speech," Faith demanded. "There's going to be a small army on our asses any minutes, so quit fucking around and tell us where we can find Angel."

"You're looking at it," Finch pointed in the general direction. "Actually, considering how my eyes glaze over, you might not want to do that for too long."

Buffy walked over to Hermione. "I believe this is your area," she told her.

Hermione looked at the wall. She seemed to be having a bit of trouble focusing on one part of it. After a few seconds, she removed her wand and began chanting in a language that Harry couldn't place.

"Please tell me this is par for the course," Ron asked Willow.

"This is a spell to reveal a shield over something that needs to stay hidden," Amy told them. "I used a variation on it to make sure this place stays safe."

"Let's hope these guys are playing from the same spell book," Xander suggested.

It took them a couple of minutes and (as they all agreed later) the video feed became very fuzzy momentarily but eventually a door appeared where the wall had been. "Voila," Hermione replied.

"Not a bad trick." Everybody in the room jumped at that, whether there or at Amy's. Because suddenly the Mayor was standing there, with a couple of vampires on either side of him. He was the only one smiling.

"Apparently, you were good enough to impress Allan here," The Mayor shook his head. "I've been so concerned about you for the last few weeks. I had such high hopes, and you proved so unworthy of them. That's just not what I've been looking for in this administration."

Finch's knees buckled, but before he could hit the ground, one of the vampires grabbed him and yanked him over to the other side.

"As for you ladies, well, I have been prepared for these kinds of shenanigans," He snapped his fingers. "And I think you'll find that once you get into government, you don't leave until your term is up."

Faith readied herself for a fight. So did Hermione. But before they could do anything, the Mayor looked up towards the camera. "Before you do anything stupid, you'd be well advised to know that you're not the only ones who know their way around the cameras. "

He stared at the wall. "We'll be seeing you. Sooner than you'd think."

And at that minute the video and audio feed went dead. The Slayers and Hermione were on their own.


	18. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Giles was the only one who managed to keep a level head after they all realized they had been compromised. Everyone else was positive that at any minute, someone was going to break the door down and they were going to be in the hands of the enemy - which enemy was the only question they had in mind.

Harry was afraid too- whether it was Faith or Hermione he was more frightened for he didn't know- but he knew that the muscle, half the brains, and almost all of the leadership was in the hands of the Mayor. Which probably connected them to just about every evil force on both sides of the Atlantic.

"This is Buffy and Faith, right?" Amy pointed out. "How many times have they faced down these kinds of odds?"

"They're going to be fighting at least one thing they can't kill," Harry reminded them. "God knows how they'll handle things if Voldemort shows his face."

Willow in the meantime was dwelling on something else. "They knew we were watching them," she told them. "Which means they know where we are."

"There's no reason to think that," Giles replied. "It's far more likely that the Mayor knows that you're working with us. Which means that in a little while, he'll probably start tearing this town apart to find us."

"Like I said, they know where we are, or they will soon enough," Willow was trying hard to think. "We need to do something to keep them busy."

"Part of being a Scooby is that you have to be bait," Xander sounded like he was trying to do the same - which, as they knew, wasn't the easiest thing for him "But how does that help them?"

Giles looked at his watch. "It's just past three," he told them. "Assuming that the time on Harry's vision was correct, Voldemort has safe passage here for another seventeen hours. We just need to keep him distracted. And we know someone who can do that." He walked over to Amy's phone.

Willow seemed to get it first. "Giles, are you sure about this?"

"Not particularly," he admitted. "But our options are getting rather limited. If nothing else, my people are distracting."

"They'll be torn to pieces by whatever the Mayor and Voldemort have planned," Harry argued out.

"What's your point?" Xander asked.

Harry shrugged. "I just thought it should be said out loud."

In truth, Harry was more bothered by this than he was willing to let on. The Watchers had struck him even before this as not particularly worthy of salvation. But the idea of sacrificing their lives as though they were no more than pieces on a chessboard struck him as the kind of thing Voldemort or the Council itself would do. Even knowing that this was war, after all, didn't make him feel much better.

_Hermione and the Slayers lives hang in the balance, _he reminded himself. _Hold on to that._

"What do you think is the next move?" Ron asked Harry. All jocularity had disappeared from the red-hair boy's voice. Replacing it was that of a soldier.

"You're asking me?" Harry was a little shocked.

"I don't know anyone else who's been inside the Dark Lord's head. Literally."

To his surprise, Harry found that he could think about this rationally - as sane as anyone could be who'd seen inside the head of Tom Riddle. "Voldemort knows that he's overmatched in Sunnydale," Harry began slowly. "And Giles is right about there being an issue of time. So he's not going to bother with hurting the Slayers. Hell, at this point,_ I'm_ probably a secondary consideration. All his energy is going to be focused on finding the cup and getting out asfast as possible. So we have to get it first."

Willow looked a little upset about how coldly they were considering this. "What, we're not even going to try to rescue our friends?"

"Oh, we're going to save them," Harry assured them. "Frankly, I'm inclined to agree with Amy that they aren't going to need much help. But still, we're going in. But we're going to have to divide our efforts a bit, and find the Horcrux while we're at it."

"Do you think that those black-ops guys know about it?" Xander asked.

"I'd be surprised if they even knew what a Horcrux was, much less that they have one," Harry reasoned. "If I had to guess, it's in one of two places: in the sewer drain where Angel stashed it, or in Spike's possession."

"So the hope for saving the world may rest on Spike being careful?" Willow asked. "Oh, we are so doomed."

"Maybe not," Xander countered. "I didn't hear the entire conversation that was going on, but am I right in thinking that Spike doesn't like Voldemort any more than we do?"

"That's a safe guess," Harry acknowledged. "Of course, Spike and Drusilla could be holed up anywhere-"

"The factory," Willow and Xander said simultaneously.

Both Harry and Ron blinked at this. "How do you know-" Harry started.

"It's where he hid the last two times he came to Sunnydale," Willow told them. "Spike may be many things, but when it comes to where he hides out, he is nothing but predictable."

"Let's say you're right, and that he has the cup," Ron asked. "You think that we have enough power to take him and Drusilla down?"

"If he was as reasonable, and I can't believe I'm using that word to describe Spike," Xander told them. "It might not even come to that. He might want this Horcrux as leverage, but I think the idea of putting one over on Lord Voldemort might just make his century."

"And Drusilla?" Willow asked. "She's crazy, and she might kill us just for fun."

"Spike's always been able to keep her in check," Xander sounded less sure of this than he had a moment earlier.

"Let me worry about that," Harry replied. "What we need to do is get to her before her distant relative gets let off the leash."

Giles returned. "I just finished talking with Quentin Travers, head of the Watchers. I told him that as a result of his actions, both Buffy and Faith were being kept prisoner by one of the greater evils near the Hellmouth."

"You sure it was a good idea to even tell him that much?" Harry asked.

"It was the only possible move to arrange a public meeting with the Council's lackeys. We're scheduled to meet at the Bronze in an hour."

"Meeting with him on our own territory," Xander said thoughtfully. "It's not much of an edge, but it's probably the best we're going to get."

Harry looked at Amy, realizing he'd barely talked with her for the last hour. "Do you know enough magic to create a public distraction?"

Amy actually looked a little sheepish. "They did tell you about how come I owe Xander?" she asked.

"Without hurting a lot of innocent bystanders?" Harry continued.

"You're gonna have to give me more than that," Amy countered.

"We need something that only the Sunnydale police can handle," Ron said thoughtfully. "Right?"

Amy seemed to get what was being implied, and looked at Xander. "Gangs on PCP in broad daylight?"

"Probably do the trick," Xander assured her. "We'll probably need a lot of them."

"That I can manage."

Not for the first time, Harry wondered whether they had guessed correctly as to whom the powerful wizard was. Shrugging his concerns off for the moment, he turned to Willow. "You can find this factory-?"

"I was held prisoner there a couple of times; I know how to find it," Willow replied. "But who's going to help Buffy and the others?"

"We are," Harry assured her. "But first things first. We find Spike, and see if he is open to this deal. We've got less than an hour to get him to see our point of view."

"Um, you've met Spike, right?" Willow argued. "Him and reason, two kind of unmixy things."

"Which is why he's going to say yes even if he says no," Harry turned to Giles. "You can do this?"

"Go."

"What's the plan?" Ron asked.

"We're going to finally find out if the Imperium spell works on vampires," Harry told them bluntly.

If Ron was at all surprised by this, he didn't show it at all. "You sure that the two of us can pull it off?" he asked

"No," Harry said honestly, before turning to Willow. "But I'm hoping the three of us can."

She let her shock appear. "Um, never cast it in my life, and not sure I'd be comfortable doing it even if I could?" she argued.

"Hopefully, it won't come to that." Now Harry was lying to her. "But we've just about run out of time, and we're going to need his help."

"Spike doesn't help!" Willow reminded them. "Even when he actually does, he doesn't. I don't even think magic could change his mind."

"Trust me," Harry said with a confidence he didn't really feel, "this'll work."

Considering how many churches, cemeteries and underground lairs there were in Sunnydale, Harry was rather surprised that there was only one factory. Of course, the fact that it happened to be a burned-out husk would've made it easy to find as well.

He was just as surprised to see that nobody appeared to be standing guard. Then he realized that it was still two hours before nightfall, and that even in Sunnydale, it would probably be suspicious to have police guarding a building that had stood unoccupied.

Willow was the only one who was notably nervous as they approached the building. "You had better have read this right," she told them. "And you had better be quick on the trigger with those wands. "

"You didn't show any of these nerves around Angel," Ron pointed out.

"Angel isn't crazy or high-strung," Willow pointed out. "Also, soul, remember? That's not something I can see either of these two ever getting."

"We've got your back, Willow," Harry tried to assure her.

"Yeah, with these guys, you've got to watch your front," she reminded them. "And I don't have enough eyes for that."

Harry realized Willow had a right to be skittish, but he was also pretty sure she was stalling. "Come on, let's just get this over with."

He rapped on the door loud enough for it to echo in the empty air, then approaching with his wand facing outright. Ron did likewise. Willow tried to do the same thing, but by the time she remembered that she had no wand, the door was yanked open.

"Clip, clop, clip, clop. Who's been tapping on my bridge?"

Even in broad daylight, there was still something genuinely terrifying about Drusilla's gentle whisper. Harry lowered his wand for a split second, long enough for two very large hands to reach out, grab him by the collar and yank him inside.

Ron, whose reactions were a lot faster, cast an Incendiary spell while Harry's eyes were still adjusting to the lighting in the factory. But these vampires were smarter, and both managed to dodge the ball of flame. Fortunately, neither of them were Drusilla or Spike, or this would've been over before it started.

"The little lion has lost his pride. Does he want mommy to kiss him and make it all better?" Drusilla was now far too close to Harry's neck for his liking.

"Now, now, luv. You know how you get when you snack between meals." Harry had never been so grateful to hear Spike's voice. Then he realized what he had just thought, and felt like a fool. "Especially when I believe he's come here to make that deal we were discussing before we were so rudely interrupted."

Spike looked at the other two vampires for a moment before snapping his fingers. They retreated. "Honestly didn't think that I'd be seeing you again," he told them.

"You obviously know why we're here," Harry began.

"You mean that little cup that Nancy Boy went to such trouble to keep safe? Yeah, I figured you'd come looking for that."

"Do you actually have it?" Ron demanded. "Otherwise, this conversation is a waste of time."

Spike looked at the other vampires, and gestured for them to follow him. When the three of them started moving, however, he held up his hand. "Just you, Mr. Potter. I don't particularly care for being surrounded."

Harry wisely withheld from saying that he clearly didn't care if he did it to other people. "I'd like to see it before we go any further," he told them.

"No trust?"

"If you'd been through as much as we have to get it, you'd want to make damn sure it wasn't an illusion too," Harry reminded him.

Spike walked over to a small leather case, opened it, and removed the cup. "Here it is, the stuff that nightmares are made of," he told them. When Harry reached out to touch it, he tucked it away. "You break it, you pay for it."

"I have a feeling you could drop it from an airplane, and it wouldn't so much as dent," Harry told them.

"Not what I meant, but you're probably right," Spike told them. "So, you clearly didn't come here to try and take this thing by force of arms. Otherwise, you'd 've blown this place to kingdom come. Which means that you want more than just the bauble."

It was time to get down to business. "When you came to Sunnydale, I assume that Voldemort told you who was pulling the strings in town."

"You mean the blighter who last time I came to town, sent a welcoming party to make sure I didn't leave? Pretty much." Spike took out a cigarette. "I'd bite his head off if I hadn't been told that he'll probably just grow a new one."

"Here's your chance," Here came the hard sell. "The Mayor and Voldemort are holding Buffy and Faith hostage."

"If you're asking me to help save a Slayer, never mind both of them, you've come to the wrong vampire," Spike replied. "'Course, you could say to that to just about any undead, but especially me."

'You're not going to save them. You're going to kill them." He ignored Willow's huge intake of breath at that last comment. "At least, that's what you're going to tell Voldemort when you contact him."

Spike looked a little perplexed at this. "Why would he... oh, that's it. You want me to trade your little gold cup to Tommy Boy for their lives. "

"Um, Harry." Ron looked a little perplexed at this. "What about Hermione?"

"I'm coming to that," Harry said impatiently. "You're going to call him in about twenty minutes. While you're doing that, Ron and Willow are going to rescue Hermione."

"So basically I'm just your little bait and switch," Spike told them. "What makes you think Baldy won't just kill me on the spot?"

"Because he could've done that when you first met, and he didn't," Harry replied. "I'm assuming that's the reason you insulted him, and are still taking up space."

"Tommy doesn't like the stars." Drusilla, who had been eerily quiet for the last few minutes, spoke up. "He hates it when other people try to count them, and add them up wrong."

Harry was trying to interpret this when Spike spoke up. "Dru's been studying her Grimoire the last few weeks. The night before Mr. Clean's deformed twin showed, she cast a couple of spells that make us resistant to whatever magic he- or any other wizard- would use to kill a vampire."

Suddenly Harry was beginning to wish that they'd brought a Slayer with them.

"Now Long Tom knows more ways to kill a man than just about anybody, so I know, the only reason he hasn't dropped me or Dru yet is 'cause he thinks he can use us somewhere down the road." Spike looked at them. "I'm guessing that's why we're here."

It must have been the tension of the road because suddenly the visions he'd been having the last few months actually seemed to solidify. All of Voldemort's machinations around Sunnydale suddenly made a lot more sense.

Ron seemed to get it too, after a fashion, because he spoke up for the first time. "You're here to keep the Slayers busy while Voldemort grabbed up the cup."

"And instead, he has the Slayers and I have the Cup. Tell me the devil doesn't have a sense of humor."

"I know for sure this devil does," Willow suddenly seemed to realize what she had just said, and very quickly shut up.

"Knowing this, what makes you so sure I'm to be trusted? Slayer's been a splinter in my arse ever since I came here. And they want to kill me as bad as Voldy does."

"_Buffy's _been a pain," Harry countered. "As far as you're concerned, Faith is pretty reasonable. She was willing to make a deal last night. My guess is the offer's still good as far as she's concerned. "

'What are you talking about?" Willow asked.

Harry ignored her. So did Spike. "What makes you think Tom hasn't already popped his cork?" he asked instead.

"Because the Mayor's had Angel for hours, and he's still drawing breath, or whatever the hell you people do," Ron countered. "Can't guarantee that'll be true for much longer."

"You think that would cost me much sleep?" Spike demanded.

Harry would've pointed out that vampires needed to sleep about as much as they needed to breathe except that he didn't think that this argument would hold much water. Besides, he had gotten a little insight into this freak's head.

"Actually, I think it would," Harry argued. "You vampires can literally hold grudges for centuries. And I think that considering how messy your last encounter with Angel was, you would be drinking yourself into a stupor for a very, very long time. This way, you get closure. How many soulless creatures get a chance for that?"

Spike just looked at Harry for several moments. Then he laughed robustly. "I hope I never end up on your bad side," he finally said with a dry chuckle. "I just have one little question: where are you going to be when all of this shakes down? Pretty sure Tommy even senses your presence, you will have maybe seconds to live."

"You just worry about yourself and Dru," Harry said feigning a self-confidence that wasn't there. " I have a feeling that's all that matters."

Spike looked at him for another long couple of moments. "Where exactly do you want this meeting of the Department of Doom to take place?" he asked again.

"Center of town. Five minutes after sunset." Harry told them. "It's just going to be you, Dru and Voldemort."

"You know as well as I do he'll never come alone," Spike reminded them.

"Yeah, well technically, you'll be lying too."

"It's almost expected of us in these situations," Spike reminded them. "There's no honor among-"

"Cold-blooded sociopaths?" Willow looked very intense right now. Even the vampires who were ostensibly guarding her looked a little nervous, as if they could see steam shooting out of her ears.

"Don't kid yourself, Red." Spike took the mostly smoked cigarette out of his mouth, and ground it into the floor. "Like the cobra told the frog, you knew what I was when you picked me up."

The expression on Willow's face didn't qualify as a resolve face or even angry. neither of which was going to do her much good in a den of vampires. She looked as if it was taking every measure of restraint to not start beating someone to a pulp, even though she wouldn't be able to give so much as a paper cut to anybody here. Finally, she managed to walk over to Harry and whisper: "May I have a word with you in private?"

Harry decided reminding her that privacy just didn't exist here would be a waste of time, and instead put up a Mufflato charm around the three of them.

"What the _hell _do you think you're doing?' she demanded furiously. "You can't just deliver Angel to him on a silver platter!"

"Do I have to remind you what happens if Voldemort takes possession of that Horcrux?" Harry countered.

"Your own vision told us Voldemort doesn't have a snowball's chance in a Hellmouth of doing anything with it!" Willow reminded him.

"Forget long term," Ron spoke up. "He will kill Buffy and Faith without a second thought. I don't even want to think of what will happen if the Death Eaters get their hands on Hermione. You're going to look me in the eye, and tell me that slaughterer is worth their lives?"

Willow had a lot of trouble coming up with an answer to that particular query. She struggled with it for a while, and finally said: "Buffy will never forgive you if we just hand him Angel. You really want to have an angry Slayer after you? Because when she finds out, she'll chase you to the ends of the earth."

"Even after everything he did last year?" Ron demanded.

A lot of the righteousness disappeared from Willow's face. Jenny Calendar was not something she had been completely able to let go. "We can't help whom we fall in love with," she finally said.

Had Harry and Ron really been as cold-blooded as they were trying to be with Angel, they would've said that the end of the world is a lousy time to deal with something as trivial as love. But Harry had been trying to pretend that he was only concerned with Faith's wellbeing because of who she was, not because of whatever it was that might be brewing between them. And if Ron were to tell them that he was just as afraid of what would happen to Ginny or his parents as he was about Hermione, Harry wouldn't believe it. Hell, Spike was probably going along with this mission because of whatever twisted thing it was that he felt for Drusilla, and there was no point in pretending otherwise.

The fact that they were in the middle of a war changed none of this. Hell, if anything, it made these feelings intensify, and if Harry couldn't admit that to himself, he sure as hell couldn't tell Willow this.

"That freak snowfall that happened at Christmas," he finally told her. "You think it was some kind of sign? Some kind of message from whoever it is running this circus that Angel's coming back was good, not evil?"

Willow thought this over for a moment. "I think so," she finally said.

"Well, maybe they'll send us another one." Harry knew that he was pressing his luck with that, because he quickly followed. "Remember that vision showing Wolfram & Hart? They gave Voldemort Drusilla's location, but refused to get him. Said he was going to be a player in later events."

"What are you trying-"

"Everything you can say about Drusilla and Spike is doubly true, if not more so for Angel, and if he really is as important as you and everyone else seems to think, he's not going to die in some back alley here."

Willow thought over what he had just said for a long several seconds, then finally spoke up. "You'd better hope you're right," she finally told him. "Because if you're wrong and something does happen to Angel, _I _will be the least of your problems. Buffy will flay you alive."

Harry had no doubt she could do it, but telling either of these powerful women- and Willow was powerful, he was certain of that- that Angel might end up being just another casualty of this war was not something he was prepared to do. Instead, he just nodded, and dropped the Mufflato spell. "You want to tell him or shall I?" he finally said.

Willow turned to Spike, who seemed only mildly curious about what had just unfolded before him. "Do what you have to," she finally said.

"Don't remember asking for your permission," Spike couldn't seem to resist sticking the needle in. "Or needing it."

"How exactly are you going to get to Voldemort?" Harry demanded. "I don't see any owls and I seriously doubt Voldemort carries a cell phone with him."

"I have no intention of calling Voldemort. The Mayor, on the other hand, _he'l_l be interested in hearing from me," Spike reached for a nearby phone. "And Tommy did tell me that there's a sure way to reach him."

Harry wasn't sure that he believed him, until the phone rang.

"911? I'd like to report a recovery of stolen goods." There was a long pause. "Yes, yesterday evening, there was a break in at the warehouse district. A very valuable piece of artwork was taken. I believe it's a priority for the Sunnydale PD?"

Harry would have given anything to hear what was on the other end of that line.

"No, this particular request came from the property's original owner." There was definite yelling on the other end; Harry could tell that much. "No, I think in an incident of this magnitude, the man who lost it should be the one to return it. Which I would be more than willing to do... in exchange for a couple of birds that City Hall managed to get a hold of." There was a very long burst of static. "Name? William? No, just William. You know, like the Prince."

"Why the hell is he talking in code?" Ron demanded. "I know what he's planning, and _I _barely follow."

Apparently, this wasn't a problem for the people on the other end. "Well, due to my skin condition, I can't make the transaction until after dark. Tell the man in charge that I will return the property at 5:20 outside the Town Square. Yes, I see. No, I'll come alone. Just make sure that the owners do as well. So glad we understand one another." He hung up.

"You see, contrary to popular opinion, the Sunnydale PD is not manned by Inspector Clousseau types." Spike answered the unasked question. " Many of them are too smart for their own good. In order to make sure that Sunnydale doesn't appear on the radar of national law enforcement, things have to be done a certain way. The Mayor has apparently spent the last century making sure that there are just enough people on staff who will manage to keep this place from turning into New York in the seventies. Those are the people who I just delivered the message too."

"Are they skilled in decoding the Sphinx's riddle?" Harry countered.

Spike just smiled and walked over to a piece of electronic equipment so rusted out Harry had been sure until now it was broken. "This is a police scanner," he told them. "Tuned to the correct frequency, anybody who knows what they're doing can have a listen in too whatever the fuzz is doing in a ten mile radius. Last night, your little burglary made half the coppers in this town leave their usual patrols for 'gangs on PCPs' and look for that particular artifact. You couldn't have attracted the Mayor's attention more if you'd decided to immolate yourself in the middle of Sunnydale High."

"You should know," Willow blurted out before hastily shutting up.

Spike ignored the comment, and turned the scanner on. He didn't have to wait a whole minute before a voice came blaring over the system. "This is Hobson. Tell the Chief we have reliable intel on where to find that 615 we've been jumping on for the last eighteen hours."

"And the crowd goes wild," Spike said almost casually.

"What makes you think the Mayor won't come to this little meeting with every vampire he can get his hands on?" Ron argued.

"He probably will. As you probably know, there isn't a great deal of honor among us 'cold-blooded sociopaths'". Spike used the same air quotes he had with 'gangs on PCP'. "But propriety, or lacking that the appearance of propriety, is one of the things that Wilkins believes in with every fiber of what he still calls his soul. He'll keep his word, up to a point. Just like he knows I will, up to a point."

Harry found this whole psychology very questionable, especially considering the source, but realized that they couldn't waste time arguing. Harry looked at his watch. "It's just past four now. You and Willow had better hurry, if you want this to have any chance of working."

Ron could've argued that even with all of these deals with the devil, their chances of emerging victorious from this were still little better than slim to none. But he knew that Hermione had to come out of this okay. Any outcome other than that would be unacceptable, not even to be mentioned. He simply turned to his fellow red-headed wizard-in-training, and said: "Take my hand."

"I thought you weren't as good an Apparator," she told him.

"I can get us to outside City Hall," Ron replied. "It's how I'm going to avoid the dozens of evil creatures around the place that has me worried."

"Has me worried too," Willow paused. "I shouldn't have told you that."

Ron gave a small smile. "Too late now."

"How long do you think it'll be before they move?" Willow asked.

"Thirty minutes, and remember, you are the rescue party. No one left to come get you if you get caught too."

"No added pressure, right?"

"The fate of the magicking world may depend on this working," Ron reminded her. "I don't know how much more pressure _could _be added."

Willow walked over, and they both popped out of sight.

Spike looked at Harry. "Really got the whole Light Brigade mentality, don't they?"

This was second time in a week someone had quoted Tennyson to him, and the shock was not a pleasant one this time. "I don't like sending people in danger."

"Neither did Patton or Montgomery; they had no problem doing it," Spike countered. "I'm not even sure the Slayer's have this kind of fortitude."

"I'm just doing what I have to do. I don't like it."

Spike gave a small grin. "You keep telling yourself that." The grin disappeared. "Well, now that the red-shirts have left, you just have a few minor difficulties still to overcome. Such as how you, Drusilla and myself are going to overcome an enemy that can't be killed, and avoid actually giving up the cup."

Harry's answer was to pick up a sheet of metal about the same size as the Horcrux and cast a Mirago spell on it.

"Can you pull a rabbit out of your hat?" Spike asked snidely. "You really think that's going to fool Voldemort?"

"Hopefully, by the time, he gets it, we'll have put enough distance between us and the Hellmouth," Harry argued, with a confidence he didn't feel.

"He's had this thing for decades, Potter, you honestly think it'll give him more than a few minutes of trouble?" Spike was a bastard, but he was a realistic one.

"Which is why we're going to provide him with enough of a distraction to keep him occupied before he has to blow town." Harry argued. "You have a problem with that?"

"Long as I get my hooks into Angel, I don't give a rat's arse what you do to this town," Spike countered. "You got any plans how we're going to do that?"

"I have the beginnings of one," Harry told him. "What concerns me is that you follow through."

"Excuse me?"

"Last time you made a deal like this with Buffy, you welched. Big time." Harry looked at Spike. "You going to repeat history?"

"What are you going to do?" Spike gloated.

"Actually, I figured I'd lock you in a room with no windows, and Buffy and Faith." Now Harry was gaining bravado. "Think they'll be as reasonable as I will?"

This did seem to reach Spike because the cockiness in his manner abated a bit. "I repeat, what is the plan?"

Harry looked at Drusilla. "She's lucid?"

"If she were, you'd be dead," Spike told him bluntly. "What do you want her to do?"

"The only thing that these people fear is power," Harry replied grimly. "We're going to make enough of a show of it to call a draw."


	19. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

When Xander heard what Harry had planned, and where he was calling from, he was struck dumb for a whole thirty seconds before telling Harry he had lost his mind.

"This really isn't the time to start insulting people," Harry had begun.

"Take it as a compliment," Xander countered. "Often the only way to beat these big bads is by thinking even crazier than they do. Witness the theft of a rocket launcher."

"So you think it'll work?"

"Didn't say that," Xander started. "But seeing as getting our own set of T-1000's on our side in the next half hour is rather unlikely, I think this is what we're going to have to do."

Taking this as acceptance, Harry then asked if he could trust Spike. "He's not going to screw me?"

"He's a vampire, of course he's going to screw you. But he has patience enough to wait until he gets what he wants before doing so. Try stalling as long as you can."

Xander then told them that he and Team Alpha (Harry still didn't get all the soldier talk, but he got the gist of it) would be there as soon as they could, and made sure they understood what he was going to have to do to make this work. So did Harry.

Which is why he was watching from a building a hundred meters away from town square watching Spike and Drusilla arrive at the meeting point. Simultaneously, he was watching another myth about vampires being disproved. Apparently, they were only mortal when it came to direct sunlight. Considering that the sun was nearly below the horizon when they got there a full five minutes before the deadline, they didn't seem at all bothered.

"Couldn't the Mayor misread this? You showing up before the cut-off time?" Harry had asked.

"He's either already there getting his people in position and out of sight, or he's going to be monitoring using some kind of magical cameras ."

"Then why set a deadline at all?"

"Like I said, the appearance of propriety," Spike reminded him. "Which is why you'd better be damn sure you are well out of sight."

Once again, Harry wished that his cloak wasn't in the hands of the enemy. He thought it unlikely the Mayor would have it destroyed, but he also felt the odds of it returning to him very remote. This caused a pang he hadn't felt since the loss of Hedwig, what seemed like a lifetime ago. All of his links to his time in Hogwarts seemed to be getting farther and farther away.

Hoping that the Mayor wasn't carrying as much technology as he had in the warehouse district, Harry concealed himself inside a dumpster. The smell of rancid food and burnt clothing was disgusting, but his focus on the outside world was so intent, he hardly noticed it.

At precisely 5:19, a limousine arrived on the opposite end of the square. A nervous looking valet got out of the car, and opened the door. Out stepped Wilkins and Trick, the looks of geniality on their face replaced with ones of disparagement.

"Well, unless I'm very much mistaken, you're William and you are Drusilla. You're the ones who caused so much hilarity around my town last year." Suddenly, that smile was back on Wilkins face. "You know, this is more fun than I thought it would be. Clandestine rendezvous, journeying with seconds, exchange of prisoners. Maybe we should have a secret password."

"I'm glad I was able to bring a little fun into your day," Spike replied. "And could we skip the pleasantries. Don't generally like spending time with people who've tried to have me killed."

"You committed a homicide in broad daylight in what I could only consider to be a very hectic time," Wilkins chastised the vampire. Were he not invulnerable, Harry imagined Spike would've bitten off the finger that was being pointed at him. "You had to expect a response."

"So much on his mind, that his hat will never cover it." Trick blinked upon hearing Drusilla speak, but not the Mayor. "All things bright and beautiful are equal in his eyes."

"Easy, luv." Spike reached out a hand to steady Dru

"One shouldn't speak out of turn in front of ones with high hats." Dru stilled.

"I have to admit, I'm a little surprised you called us at all, " Trick told them. "Making this kind of trade for these Slayers, little, how do I put this, straightforward for you."

"I'm not the one who has Byzantine plots to fulfill or deadlines to meet," Spike replied. "I'm a simple vamp with simple tastes. I want Slayers, you have them, it's that simple."

"So the rumors that you were Tom's friends were exaggerated?" Wilkins asked.

"Tommy boy doesn't have friends. He has people he kills, and he people he finds useful who he will kill later," Spike told them. "You'd think the wizarding community would've cottoned to that the second time around. But no, like everyone else in the supernatural community, they're the last to know."

Harry wasn't wild about the way this conversation was heading, or the slurs that Spike was casting on his calling.

"This is all very interesting, but I think we're straying rather far from the point," Trick reminded them. "Where is the Horcrux?"

Spike shrugged, opened his duster and showed him the false one, but closed his coat before the others could get a closer look. "I'd like to see my Slayers first."

Again, Trick's wariness was not reflected in Wilkins' eyes. He snapped his fingers, and out came Buffy and Faith, chained, gagged, and surprisingly docile considering the company they were keeping. Harry didn't believe for a second that this was voluntary.

"How'd you get them to hold still?" Spike asked.

"It's amazing what the right combination of dark magic and enchanted metal can do." Wilkins told them. "I'd give you the number of the shaman I used, but he's no longer in business."

"Your doing?" Spike asked.

"Skilosh demon. Ones with the eyes in the back of their heads. He literally didn't see it coming." Wilkins gave another hearty laugh that Sunnydale citizens probably found charming but which was beginning to sound as unpleasant as one of Draco Malfoy's chuckles.

"You can at least take the gags out," When Wilkins and Trick raised eyebrows, Spike gave that predator's smile. "It wouldn't be the same if I couldn't hear them scream."

"All right, but watch out for her," Wilkins indicated Faith. "She could make a sailor blush."

With the care that a skilled engineer would use to defuse a bomb, Trick somehow managed to remove the gag from Buffy's mouth while keeping his hand intact. He was not, however, as lucky with Faith. Trick probably tried not to scream like a girl, but how would you react if you lost the tip of your finger?

Before he finished howling Faith spat out a bloody chunk of flesh. "How it's feel getting bit for a change?" she howled.

"Goddamn it, I will cut your throat-"

"Trick," Wilkins said delicately. It probably wasn't helping matters that Spike was even trying to hide a look of amusement. "Now before anyone else has to lose a body part, would you mind handing over the cup?"

Spike opened his duster. "Dru, how would you like to play with our new friends?" he said as he removed the cup.

"Bad girls talking out of turn. That's not done in polite circles."

Buffy hadn't even blinked after Faith had taken a chunk out of Trick, but she did seem to darken a little at seeing Dru. "You have no idea how much I've wanted to pay you back for what you did to Kendra."

"Not so nice having the shoe on the other foot is it?" Spike said as he simultaneously handed the cup over to the Mayor and maneuvered Faith until she was standing a little closer to Harry's line of sight.

This was going to be the most difficult part of the entire act. Very gently sticking his wand through the hole in the dumpster, he began to chant 'Liberio' over and over. A single chant of this spell would normally free those involve from any bond. In this case, all it did was loosen two knots of the chain. Harry hoped that, combined with Slayer strength, would be enough.

"I'm sure you're capable of handling yourself, but just so we're clear," Wilkins sounded authoritarian, and not in that fatherly way, "when you finish your business, leave town and never come back. Your annual trips to my town end tonight."

"Believe me, your Honor, this is one place I won't mind seeing disappear through my rearview mirror," Spike told him, as he walked with Faith back over to Drusilla. "Come on, love, let's blow this popsicle stand."

"Oooh," Dru held her head in her hands. "So much power around us. So much. Every Tom, Dick and Harry has come to our little party."

And like that, the Mayor's expression changed. "Would you ask your companion to repeat what she just said.?"

And suddenly Harry was very nervous. It was hard to tell because Spike managed to maintain his poker face, but he looked a little concerned, too. "You can't be taking her seriously. I've known her for over a century, and even I don't understand more than every other sentence out of her."

"Nevertheless, there's a Tom involved, " Wilkins began. "I know there is a Dick, so maybe our old friend is hanging around."

"You want to take it that way?" Spike suddenly seemed to have regained his equilibrium. "'Cause if you're going to take Dru literally , maybe that means Tom is somewhere nearby. And that would be a violation of the little deal we had."

Now the Mayor seemed defensive. "All right, I'm sorry. Obviously, you know Drusilla better than I would. Let's just all go to our corners and walk away."

Trick looked like he wanted to pursue the issue, but followed his boss' command. And then, just as Harry was getting ready to make his move, disaster struck from an unexpected newcomer.

"Stop where you are! " blared a loud voice. "By the order of the Watcher's Council, we demand you cease your movements immediately!"

Everybody froze, probably not so much out of fear, but, at least in Harry's case, out of astonishment. When Giles had called for the Watchers to run interference for them, none of them had believed that they had a chance in hell of prevailing. Now, all of a sudden, one of those ridiculous SUV's that Americans drove had pulled on to the street, and someone was shouting orders through a megaphone.

"I thought our boys had handled the ones who tried to raze City Hall," Trick asked the Mayor.

"Council employs thousands of people. Would have been absolutely idiotic of them to spend all their efforts in one shot." Wilkins seemed completely unconcerned, a bear being annoyed by a flea. "Let's see if I can handle this peacefully before we have to resort to violence."

The Mayor's way of handling things was to walk right up to the SUV. "You do know that you're creating a public disturbance over what is obviously a minor misunderstanding."

"You abducted both of our Slayers; I would hardly consider that minor," the voice in the SUV replied.

"I know some of the little details that you had planned for these lovely ladies." The Mayor was still sounding magnanimous. "Believe me, what I'm doing, might almost be considered a kindness."

"You know what I'm starting to really hate about Watchers, B?" Faith said to Buffy in that same casual tone. "How they're always talking and talking like we're not in the room."

"I'm starting to get that feeling, too," Buffy seemed just as relaxed. "I don't think these bozos have ever seen a Slayer in action, much less two."

"You're thinking, what, a little synchronized slaying, on three?"

"Why bother counting? Let's just beat the crap out of everybody." Buffy whirled around. "Starting with you."

And the two Slayers instantly freed themselves from their chains, each simultaneously delivering an uppercut to the vampires that had been holding them. Harry needed no second bidding, and kicked the lid of the dumpster off, while Spike and Drusilla were still tumbling backwards.

"We've been double-crossed!" Trick reached for a walkie-talkie. "Send out the reserve force!"

The Mayor didn't seem angry, merely disappointed. "I guess there truly is no honor among thieves," He shook his head. "It's a good thing I planned the budget for the city carefully."

He pulled something out of his coat pocket, so small one couldn't tell what it was - a button of some kind. He pushed it.

There was a whirring noise. The limousine, which Harry had completely forgotten about, was the source of the noises. The windshield was darkened, the doors became armored, and what appeared to be sub-machine guns appeared outside every window. Somehow, the Mayor had just turned his car into a tank. And then, he turned it on those assembled.

Harry had enough time to realize the Mayor truly didn't seem to care about how many people died here. Even the vampires would take damage if they were hit; they'd seen as much happen to Trick the previous night. He also was certain that as good as magic shields were, he had no idea whether or not they would stop a bullet - another example of the wizarding world being outthought by Muggle technology.

Then he saw the automobile come charging at Faith and Buffy and, shouted: "Protego!" in their direction. A split second later, the bullets bounced off them.

Buffy and Faith didn't hesitate, and began to run towards the vampires. Harry felt sorry for them - until he saw that bullets weren't hurting Spike or Drusilla either.

_Crap. Like I needed anymore proof that Drusilla's not someone to mess with._ Then they had another problem - a dozen vampires appeared, and even though the temperature was in the fifties, they all seemed to be wearing heavy coats. Harry didn't get their significance at all- not even when two got right in the path of the bullet spray, and only momentary doubled over before heading straight for Faith and Buffy.

The Slayers registered what this meant before Harry did. "He fucking fitted them with Kevlar?" Faith exclaimed.

"I think the Mayor's done playing nice," Buffy replied.

Harry didn't have the heart to tell them what was now clear- the Mayor had taken the opportunity of this massive chaos to disappear into the shadows. No doubt he was using this whole Horcrux fiasco to create an opportunity for all the unseemly elements who had arrived in his town to wipe each other out. And it was starting to look as if he was going to get his wish. Despite the fact that there were two Slayers on the scene, the numbers against them were too big.

He was therefore surprised to see that Spike and Drusilla had not similarly taken advantage of the chaos and apparated out. Even watching Spike fight the other vampires, he didn't think that Spike was helping beat the opposition despite the deal he had struck with them just hours before.

As it was, his fighting had distracted Buffy and Faith, both of whom were dumbstruck by what was happening.

Momentarily. "You know, for someone who does so much double-crossing, he doesn't seem to like it when it happens to him," Buffy said sarcastically.

"Maybe he really, really doesn't want us to stake him," Faith replied. "Shame I'm going to do it, anyway."

Spike finished throwing a vampire throw the air, and staking him. "You selfish bints have no idea what I went through to get you out of there," he whispered.

"Somehow, I doubt that you did this out of the goodness of your non-beating heart," Buffy replied.

Harry really didn't want this conversation to happen, certainly not now. Fortunately, a vampire had the good sense to run right into his path. "Incendio!" he shouted, and the foolish vampire erupted in flames. "Could we hold off on discussing this until after the undead assault is over?"

Unfortunately, though the Mayor was now nowhere to be found, his tank seemed fully capable of running them down, and apparently, had decided that Harry was a much better target.

Faith and Buffy were limber enough to leap out of the way. Harry didn't have that kind of energy to spare.

_Voldemort's going to be real disappointed when he finds out I died here._

"Wingdarium Leviosa!"

And just like that, Harry found that he was levitating above the ground. Only instead of the usual five feet, he was up nearly as high as he could get during a Quidditch match. "What the hell...?"

He then continued to rise until he was nearly level with the top of a building, where he spotted one of the most welcome sights possible.

"You know, Harry, I think this qualifies as a deus ex machina," Hermione told him.

Hermione was a skilled practitioner, but even Harry didn't think that she was powerful enough to cast a spell this effective. Which is why it came as an even greater surprise to see who was standing just a few feet away.

"Willow? When the hell did you learn this?" he demanded.

"You're kidding, right? First spell I managed to master was making a pencil float," Willow told him. "Getting this spell under my belt was the easiest magic you had to teach me."

Harry climbed over to the roof of the building, and the pair of witches released the spell. "Where's Ron?" he asked.

"He ran off to rendezvous with Xander and Giles. Said something about calling in the cavalry," Willow told him with an odd smile. "Apparently, he didn't think that Hermione and I were sufficient."

"Maybe you're not," Harry looked over the building's side. "I'm pretty sure that we never got taught in DADA how to deal with _that."_

Hermione and Willow were a little befuddled. "Doesn't seem like Faith and Buffy are having much trouble dealing with it," Willow pointed out.

Never was there a greater testament to the abilities of the Slayer then the fact that somehow both of them were having no trouble outmaneuvering an armored vehicle. Unfortunately, the vampires didn't seem to be having much trouble either, and Harry was afraid that the combination of the two was going to prove too much for them. "I think we have to get back into the fight," he told his fellow witches.

"Figured you'd say that," Hermione considered the problems for a moment. "You think you can get a bead on that monstrosity?"

Harry nodded. "On three. One, two..."

"_Incendio!"_

Hermione and Harry's fire spell managed to hit the car dead on. Unfortunately, there was nothing on the hood of the car that was flammable. It sputtered out a few moments after the initial strike.

"You think we need to get closer?" Hermione asked Willow.

Willow shrugged. "Don't look at me. Taking down Knight Rider is not something out of the Scooby handbook." She looked down. "But we can probably reduce the numbers of vampires ."

Hermione looked around. "There's a fire escape on the other side of the building," she told them. "Let's get back to ground level."

They had just started to move toward when they heard the worst possible sound - six succinct pops. The Death Eaters had just entered stage right. And they were led by the most ominous one - Bellatrix.

By now, Harry was beyond being frightened by the woman who'd killed his godfather. "I'm a little surprised you're not on the ground helping your long-lost great-aunt," he mentioned in as casual a tone as he could manage.

"She's taken care of herself for over a century," Bellatrix replied. "Frankly, I'm amazed she's bothering with your friends at all."

"Why not?" Hermione spoke up. "She's as crazy as a loon. And, from what I can tell, the apple didn't fall far from that particular tree."

Some of the Death Eaters appeared a little shocked that this fledgling was daring to insult the right hand of Voldemort. Bellatrix seemed less concerned. "You're just trying to make me kill you quickly, mudblood," she mentioned casually. "Believe me, there will be no mercy for you or any of those friends. No, the only one who's going to get off easy is this Muggle scum."

The last person in the world Harry wanted to have her looking at was now under the glare of the Death Eaters. To her enormous credit, Willow didn't flinch. Then again, once you've stared down the Scourge of Europe and William the Bloody, looking at powerful witches might seem quaint.

"You're going to regret that, " Willow told them slowly. "I possess great power."

The reaction of the Death Eaters was unanimous. They all started laughing.

"I do," Willow said a little more urgently. "I command the power of four elements. Five on a good day."

Hermione and Harry didn't dare say anything, but the same thought was crossing both their minds: What the hell was Willow thinking?

"Satan, prince of the night. Fill me with your dark, naughty-"

"Gusto!" Bellatrix barely blinked as she directed a powerful wind right at Willow that blew her off the building.

"And now that the puling wannabe is gone, we can get down to what needs to be done," Bellatrix smiled.

"Um, excuse me…"

Harry didn't dare turn around. Just a flick of the eyes was enough to reveal what he had seen. Willow was somehow levitating much like Harry had moments ago.

Bellatrix was the only Death Eater who could manage to keep a straight face; all the others were clearly in some degree of shock.

"I guess they let anybody have access to magic in America," Bellatrix responded. "That doesn't change the fact that you and your friends can't win this fight."

"You haven't a clue as to what we're capable of," Willow replied.

And at that exact moment, the auto-tank that had been the bane of the Slayers for the last few minutes exploded. None of them would find out until later that Xander had used his knowledge as a soldier to design a Molotov cocktail, which, guided by Ron, had been directed at the vehicle's gas tank. All they needed to know that the timing had been impeccable.

"Really want to tussle, hon?" Willow replied.

Two of the Death Eaters clearly didn't - they took the opportunity to cut and run. The other three plus Bellatrix, however, were made of sterner stuff. "Take out the wizards; the redhead is mine." Bellatrix replied.

This, however, was not an ideal outcome; even Willow knew that. "You're going to have to catch me first," she said, and managed to make her way down as if she were climbing an invisible staircase.

Bellatrix made the same mistake that so many of the vampires and demons in Sunnydale did - she started chasing the bait. Harry knew that Willow was going to have problems, but right now he and Hermione had their hands full

Three _Cruci__O__s_ rang off in succession. Harry managed to dodge the first one, but the second one hit him dead center. The pain racked his body, but he'd developed something of a tolerance, and he managed to recover quickly. Hermione, still recovering from whatever injuries she'd incurred at City Hall, wasn't as fortunate, and dropped her wand.

One of the Death Eaters moved in for the kill. But before he could cast the Killing Curse, Harry decided to do something that he didn't think he normally would've done even having been in Sunnydale for a week. He took a page out of the villains playbook, and cast 'Gusto!" at the top of his lungs.

The only thing that could've explained that working was that this Death Eater was still in shock. He didn't react to try and stop the spell until he was over the ledge. There was just this look of dumb shock on his face as he plunged to his death.

"A live action Warner Brothers cartoon?" a familiar voice said. "I literally have seen everything now."

The Death Eaters apparently hadn't been briefed on the entire Slayer bit because after Faith appeared they started to cast spells on her just like they had on Willow. If the dark-haired Slayer was at all exhausted from the last two days or from having been tied up for the last few hours, there was absolutely no sign of it in any of her movements. She leapt right in front of the nearest Death Eater and cold-cocked him.

Clearly seeing that the odds were stacked against her, the remaining Death Eater opted to disapparate.

"How did you get up here?" Harry said, as he ran towards Hermione.

"Unlike you, I took the stairs," Faith picked up the wizard. "I guess that makes us even now."

"Right...now... it's looking like we both owe Harry," Hermione tried to shake off the curse. "How goes the battle below?"

"Now that Christine's big sister has gone up in flames, we shouldn't have much of a problem as far as the undead portion of the enemy," Faith looked down. "B and I took out most of the vamps, which means the only thing we have to worry about are whatever wizards you and your friends have left to handle."

"Pretty big if," Hermione replied. "Did you see which way Willow was heading?"

Faith shook her head. "Either of you teach her that walking on air spell?"

Neither of them had, which was just one of the reasons that Harry was worried.

"We better get down to the ground," Hermione told them. They started running, Faith leading the way.

They were just about to touch down when suddenly someone grabbed Hermione. Harry and Faith whirled around to see that the Death Eater he thought he had killed was alive, albeit very bruised.

"Should've known better," Faith said wistfully. "Coyote always bounced back no matter how times he fell off the cliff."

Harry, however, noticed that this Death Eater no longer had his wand. He raised his. "Give it up," he ordered.

"I'll snap her neck!" The threat would have sounded more perilous if he didn't look like a stiff wind would blow him over.

"Yeah, well, I'm betting without your wand, you couldn't kill an ant."

Faith suddenly whirled around, shouted, 'Duck," and managed to kick him in the crotch. As Hermione let go, Faith knocked him down.

"Never gets old watching you do that," Hermione replied.

"Is he going to be a problem later?" Faith asked.

Harry shook his head. "Voldemort hates it when his flunkies fail him," he reminded them. "That guy's going to wish he'd died on impact."

"Bellatrix isn't going to go that quietly," Hermione countered. "We have to find Willow _now."_

An idea hit Harry. A truly horrible idea. But not an _implausible _idea. "Where's Drusilla?"

Hermione and Faith seemed to get it, and they seemed even less happy about it than he did. "She'll slit our throats before she lets us hurt her long-lost whatever," Faith reminded them.

"Then we don't give her a choice," Trying really hard not to think about what he was doing, he ran right up to Drusilla, and brought his wand an inch away from her temple. "Take us to Bellatrix. NOW!"

Spike was about to move towards her, when Dru held up her hand. "Don't want to disturb her. She's with Daddy."

The implication hit all of them, and paradoxically, it make Spike more pliable. "Well, don't just stand there, luv. Let's have a little family reunion."

Everyone heard that, including the last person that Harry wanted. "He's still alive?" Buffy asked.

Pointing out that Angel hadn't been alive for nearly a quarter of a millennium did not seem to Harry to be a productive use of his time. "Take us there.

Where are they?"

Drusilla made a come hither motion, and floated - that was the only word for it- a few blocks. Harry was having trouble believing that Willow could have made it that far of her own free will.

His concern got even more intense when he heard several voices coming from an alley up ahead. Some of those voices were familiar, and they all sounded like they were in pain.

"You can not defeat me," Bellatrix said with the patience of psychologically disturbed, "so you might as well tell me where you learn that little conjuring trick."

"You live in this town, you pick some stuff up," It was Amy who was talking. "Or don't they teach about Hellmouths in wizarding school?"

"You're in no position to lecture me on magic," Bellatrix replied.

"No, but we are," Buffy was not going to be subtle. Not when her friends were in danger. "And you're on my turf, bitch."

By now, Harry could see the situation. Bellatrix was completely alone, but she had clearly managed to subdue Angel, Willow and Xander, all of whom were writhing in agony. Amy and Ron were still standing, and looking incredibly determined not to give ground.

Bellatrix was now surrounded by three wizards, two Slayers, and one well-above average witch. It said something for her state of mind that the only one she seemed cognizant of was Drusilla.

"You've made such a mess of Daddy," Drusilla said quietly.

Angel indeed looked like he had seen better days - his clothing was torn, there were scars and bruises all over his body, and there was the indentation of a cross burned into his palm.

"He had it coming, and you know it," Bellatrix replied. "Besides, what do we care for this waste of a demon?"

"Stop talking smack about my boyfriend," It looked like it was taking all of Buffy's energy not to leap forward and twist Bellatrix's neck. "Crawl back into whatever little hole you call a home, and never come back."

"So emotional, these Slayers," Bellatrix replied. "No wonder they die so quickly."

"Give up, Bellatrix, there's nowhere left for you to run," Faith sounded even more confident than usual.

"You fools, " Bellatrix began that maniacal cackling that Harry had come to truly loathe about her. "I am not the one who has to run."

And suddenly Harry realized they'd all been so focused on their immediate concerns that none of them had noticed that the atmosphere had gotten heavier, and that a dark cloud was now covering the sky. There was a sound of an explosive Apparation.

Voldemort had arrived on the Hellmouth, and Harry couldn't help feel part of his bowels turning to ice as he arrived with all his fury.

But neither Buffy nor Faith had gotten the memo on how dangerous the Dark Lord was. Buffy's reaction was: "Why has every great evil never heard of personal grooming?"

Faith's response was: "Mr. Clean called. He wants his haircut back."

If the connection with Voldemort had taught Harry anything, it was that Voldemort was capable of being humble when he needed to. But this utter insolence from two girls who looked like a stiff breeze could blow them over, he had no intention of taking. He tossed off a Killing Curse right at Buffy.

_Who jumped out of the way._

"Have I mentioned how tired I am of big, bald baddies trying to kill me?" Buffy wasn't waiting for Voldemort to try and recover from this particular shot; she whirled around to try to bash his face in. Either Voldemort was shocked by what had just happened or he couldn't believe the audacity of a Slayer, because she managed to land a punch. Even more astonishingly, the punch seemed to stagger him momentarily.

Suddenly Harry realized something else odd. With the exception of Bellatrix, Voldemort was completely alone. No Pettigrew, no Snape, none of the other Death Eaters that formed his little entourage. For the first time since coming to Sunnydale, he suddenly wished the wizarding world was capable of absorbing a tenth of what was in Xander's head about firearms. A well placed sniper could have quietly ended almost all of their problems.

Almost.

Voldemort seemed to recover from his momentary stupor and fired another Killing Curse, this one at Hermione. But apparently she had been taking lessons in magic from the Sunnydale playbook. Harry didn't recognize the incantation at all, but he sure as hell appreciated the effects. The energy from the spell hit the curse and, just like Harry had been seeing for years, it looked like fireworks in the sky. Only this time the colors were brighter, almost cheerful.

Voldemort must have realized for the first time that he was at a huge disadvantage. He knew that none of them could kill him, but they could make him look bad. It was one thing to show weakness in front from evil lawyers, sorcerer vampires, and someone who was just as invulnerable as he was; it was quite another to show it in front of his own kind. There had to be a way for him to get out of this and still look like he just wasn't trying to save face.

And being the Dark Lord, he found it. "Bring me the girl," he ordered Bellatrix. clearly indicating Willow.

For the tiniest of moments Bellatrix hesitated. Harry had no idea how he knew, but he was pretty sure in that twisted corkscrew that passed for her brain, she had real doubts about her Lord. She didn't show it, though, as she hoisted Willow to her feet. "Be careful," was all she said. "She's more trouble than she's worth."

They both should have known better. "Don't touch a hair on her head," Buffy said in the coldest tone he had heard yet from her.

"You may be strong and quick, but you are still just a Muggle."

This was probably the worst possible thing he could've said. "Who specializes in roundly kicking the asses of tools like you. Just ask Spike."

Even knowing the maze that he was trapped in, the blond vamp couldn't help but somehow give a wise-ass shrug. "Incorrigible, aren't they?"

Under normal circumstances both Spike and Buffy would have been dead before they'd finished their sentences. Voldemort merely reached for Willow. "I'm not going to listen to a rodent like you," he told her.

"Big talk, Baldy,." Faith wasn't going to let this go either. "Damage Red, and I'll kill you, and it'll stick this time."

"And how will you do that exactly?"

"I'll have you know I know seven different ways to kill an evil wizard." Faith walked over to him. "Want to see one?"

Now Voldemort looked genuinely concerned. He knew Faith hadn't picked that number out of thin air. He also clearly couldn't acknowledge it.

"Bring me Potter and the cup, and you and your friends will live to fight another day," he tried again.

"Now we all know that's a lie," Buffy told him. "Just like we know that we're not the only one who's on probation in my town."

Voldemort was clearly unsettled. If he had been alone, he would have probably made a strategic retreat. But Spike's comment about the appearance of propriety applied as much to him as it did to the Mayor. The difference was, the Mayor clearly had a code of honor, and the Dark Lord prided himself on not having one.

So he did the only thing that he could do - he called Buffy's bluff, and made a play for Willow. Or he tried to. Several things happened in quick succession. A blast of magic came within an inch of hitting Voldemort in the nose. He dodged it, but while doing so, both Faith and Buffy leaped forward and struck the Dark Lord hard enough to knock him to the ground. Before Voldemort could regain his feet, he was staring into the demon visage of Angel, which even if it was bruised and battered, still rivaled the Dark Lord for fright.

"You may not be able to die," Buffy told him, "but I think we can open up a can of real bad whoopass on you. You really want to look like that- in front of your people?"

Indeed, Bellatrix was now looking at her master as if he were some new form of vegetation rather than the man she had killed for not minutes ago.

So Voldemort looked straight at them. "You may carry the day in this wretched town, but when the time comes, I will wipe you and your Slayer brethren off the face of this earth. Its only a matter of time."

Several pops came in rapid succession, and when they were finished Voldemort and all of his minions - including Drusilla and Spike - were gone.

The first thing that Harry did was look around for whoever had thrown the last bolt of magic that had broken the stalemate. He was surprised to find that Ron was still standing in a different section of the alley, his wand drawn. A moment later, it sunk in for him, and the redhead fell to the ground.

"I can't have seen that," Hermione told him. "Did we win?"

"More like forced a draw," Buffy replied. "And don't kid yourself. We got lucky. Everybody who was trying to kill us yesterday is still around and kicking, and my guess is they're going to be coming back more pissed off than ever, and with a lot more help."

"Geez, way to kill a buzz," Xander by now had recovered enough of his strength so that he could lift himself and Willow off the ground. "Can't we do one Snoopy dance of victory?"

"I would," Ron replied, "but I'm not sure I can move."

Then Willow realized that the Death Eaters weren't the only ones who had vanished. "Where's Angel?"

Buffy went stock still. "Did they kill him?"

"No pile of ash," Hermione pointed out. "They must have taken him with them when they Apparated."

"Why?" Buffy demanded of everyone and no one. "They don't do anything without a reason."

"Maybe Voldemort doesn't," Willow replied. "Drusilla's nuts, remember?"

Buffy ran over to Hermione. "Where would they take him?" she demanded, not knowing or caring that Hermione wouldn't have the answer. "Where is he?"

But all the answers had left with Voldemort and Drusilla.


	20. Epilogue

**EPILOGUE**

The next day was very unpleasant for so many people, but for Harry and his friends, it could've been a lot worse.

Willow, who Harry had been sure would rat out the little deal that he and Ron had made with Spike, didn't reveal any of the details of their little rendezvous. He'd been sure that one of the Slayers would've been curious as to how they'd gotten Spike to basically trade for their lives, but there had been so much going on that neither seemed to care.

For starters, there had been the encounter with the Watchers, who hadn't been torn to pieces by their foolhardy assault. Both Buffy and Giles had to be held back from doing grievous bodily harm to them for their moronic moves that had nearly given the game away.

But much like the Ministry had in the days when Fudge was in charge, the Council had refused to admit that they were in error. Incredibly, a right prat named Travers, was claiming that if they'd entrusted them with their plans in the first place, they wouldn't have had to intervene.

"If what you did was considered help, I'd hate to see what happens if we were ever enemies," Xander argued. "And you know, I've got a feeling that's going to happen soon."

Travers then did exactly Umbridge had done whenever she had heard something derogatory; ignored it, and continued talking to the people he considered important. In this case, however, he got no help from Giles.

"You've already relieved me of my duties," he told them. "There's no force on this earth that could persuade me to take your side now."

"And in case your boys didn't deliver the message I gave," Faith started, "I think you and your friends have helped us enough. The days that we took orders from you are finished, right B?"

Buffy seemed to need to think this over - for all of five seconds. "I never understood how Giles could have fallen in with such idiots. Now I find out that you've been lying to me since day one. And if you really think the wizarding world is involved in a civil war that'll just blow over, then I don't know how you got your jobs in the first place."

"This is outright insubordination. You have no right-"

Buffy got about as close to Travers as she could without physically hurting him, though Harry actually would have paid to see her do it. "Have you really forgotten what an angry Slayer is capable of?" she said in a voice so low they could barely hear it. "Because I really want to kick someone's ass, and you're as good a candidate as any."

"And they say _I'm_ the one who needs reining in," Faith smiled. "Get out as fast as possible. 'Cause I'm still pissed at being held hostage the first time."

Travers apparently knew when he was beaten. Though the son of a bitch actually had the gall to say that they would be back in Britain, ready to help "when you are more inclined to see reason." Which would be around the time pigs started flying, as far as they were concerned.

Before they could savor the moment, Buffy promptly got into another argument. The difference was this time, she was alone.

"Buffy, I understand your concern for Angel," Giles' tone indicated that despite that, he couldn't personally give a crap what had happened to the vampire. "but the fact is, there are far larger problems at hand."

"Don't you dare pull that 'sacred duty' bullshit," Buffy said hotly. "I quit the Council. You were there."

"That's as maybe, but the Mayor has just begun a plan of some magnitude. We have no idea as to the details of it save that it's fast approaching, and that in order to prepare for it, he became invulnerable," Giles replied. "You can't honestly tell me that isn't a far greater matter."

Buffy looked like she wanted to say the hell with it, but kept her mouth shut.

"Besides, our vacation ends tomorrow," Willow pointed out. "You really don't want to get into any more trouble with your Mom, do you?"

Buffy looked at her friend as if this was the last thing she wanted to be dealing with. "We've got multiple threats on two supernatural fronts, and you want me to be concerned with my _grade point average?"_

"Actually, it might well behoove you keep that in mind," Giles pointed out. "After two years of saying you wanted a future outside of slaying, I would think you'd like to make sure that you still have one."

Buffy looked towards the Hogwarts trio. "The three of them dropped out of wizarding school to save the world."

"Yes, but after we find the Horcruxes, we're going back," Hermione didn't seem prepared to give Buffy any latitude. "Besides, it's not like we gave up testing in order to come here. The three of us took our NEWTs while the whole world was denying Voldemort was alive."

"Really? And how exactly do you expect to find the three that are left?" Buffy countered. "Not to mention the huge headache you're going to be going through to destroy the one we liberated."

This was in fact a significant problem. Harry had been reluctant to broach it, given how volatile Buffy was at the moment. Nevertheless, he figured he owed Buffy that much.

"It is far more likely that the remaining Horcruxes are back in England-," he began.

"You don't know that. For all you know, Voldemort scattered them all over the world," Buffy pointed out.

"Voldemort took a huge risk leaving one of them outside Britain. Given everything I saw when I was in his head, any place outside of the wizarding world, he's at a huge disadvantage," Harry argued "He wouldn't dare risk that. Besides, he wants to make sure that whatever Horcruxes are left are as close to him as possible."

"You're just guessing,." Buffy now seemed to be grasping at straws.

"He has to know that we've destroyed three of them. He definitely knows that we have the fourth," Ron reminded them. "He'll be sending every Death Eater and their auntie after us now."

"Which is why you need a Slayer's protection."

"And they're going to get one."

Everybody looked up at Faith, who'd been surprisingly quiet until now.

"Wait a minute. It's one thing for the three of them to go. You can't leave too." Buffy demanded.

"There's nothing keeping me here any more," Faith pointed out, "I cut my ties with the Council same as you. Besides," she gave a sad smile that Harry would not really have associated with her, "Sunnydale's always been a one-Slayer town, and you know it."

For the first time when it came to Faith, Buffy and the Scoobies looked a little guilty. Maybe she'd been right about how they'd always treated her like she was a second-class citizen.

Giles, however, took a different approach. "Obviously, I can't order you to stay, and, your complaints to the contrary, you're obviously free to do as you please, but are you sure that this is really in your best interest?"

Faith didn't answer immediately, turning to Harry instead. "Moldyshorts, he looked scared when he was facing off against us?"

"Scared, no," Harry paused. "But you definitely caught him by surprise. That almost never happens."

"They came here saying that they needed a Slayer's help in their fight," Faith reminded them. "And goddamnit, that's what they're going to get. Besides, I need someone to train me in the ways of the Force."

"That's not quite what we came here to do, but right," Ron replied.

A genuine smile crossed Faith's face. "And they desperately need someone to train them in the ways of pop culture. I'm willing to lay any odds that they have no idea what the Scoobies is supposed to refer to."

"He's a cartoon dog. That one that's always depressed?" Ron asked.

The three Hellmouth residents shook their heads almost in unison. "You guys must really stick out when you're in this country," Xander replied sadly. "You do get TV in your part of England, don't you?"

"When the pictures in your photographs move around from place to place, TV seems a little pedestrian," Hermione argued.

Willow spoke up. "Not that I want to make your lives more difficult, but a week ago, you were convinced that I was the key to winning the whole war." It took her a lot of effort to say the next sentence. "Please tell me that you're wrong."

"You survived two separate Death Eaters attacks," Harry reminded her. "And you didn't seem to be even trying when you were using your magic."

"Then why didn't Voldemort take her out then and there?" Xander demanded.

"He might not have known what you were before," Hermione replied. "And he probably doesn't now. But if he finishes consolidating his power, and if the Mayor no longer seems to be a factor-"

"Those are a couple of very big 'ifs', Buffy tried to cheer up her friend.

"He'll want to look to into you. He wants to control anything he can't understand."

This didn't cheer Willow up. "And I'm guessing that going back to Hogwarts to complete my training would be a huge mistake."

"It would be like sticking your head into the lion's mouth." Harry told her. "Willow, I'm not the best one to make judgments, so I'll ask you flat out. You heard what our life was like the last few months. It's probably going to be exactly like that for God knows how much longer. Helping you reach your full potential, I don't think it's something we're equipped for. Knowing that, do you still want to come with us?"

Willow gave the question a great deal of thought. "I don't think that what I want really matters," she said finally. "I am an untapped reservoir of magical energy. Voldemort's going to come after me some time. Maybe you need me."

The sad part was that Willow was probably right, but the reality of the situation was, they couldn't protect Willow. The Golden Trio of Hogwarts could barely protect themselves, even if they were accompanied by a Slayer. And it would be so easy for even a fledgling Death Eater to take her out of the picture.

"You've got a decent set of people who can train you here," Hermione was now trying to soften the blow. "And whatever the hell Mayor Wilkins has planned, Buffy is definitely going to need your help."

"Besides, you're the one who lectured on how she needed to prepare for her future," Buffy tried to argue.

"Yeah, but your mother would miss you. Mine-" Willow shut up, clearly not wanting to finish that particular sentence.

'_We _would miss you," Xander assured her. This clearly helped.

"Alright, but something has to be done about Angel." Buffy argued. "Everybody from the cops to Spike had a chance to take him out, and nobody did it. You can't expect to believe they took him just to invite him for tea."

"Why do you care so much about him?" Xander finally exploded. "Didn't last year teach you that you and Deadboy have no future together? I realize he matters to you, maybe he even matters to the world somehow, but that doesn't mean everything that happens to him is your responsibility!"

At this point, Faith wisely interceded. "I will find him, B," she swore. "And I'll make sure that he comes back home. But you gotta promise me something."

"Name it," Buffy told them.

"Once he comes back, you have to get out of his life. For good."

Buffy blinked several times. "W- what are you- we're just-"

"Please Buffy," Xander wasn't going to stand for this. "You're willing to throw your entire life away again. Don't lie to us and say you're over him."

An internal war seemed to be going on within Buffy.

"Buffy, at some point, you are going to have to face this." Giles was trying to sound compassionate, which considering that he was Angel's greatest victim, had to be taking a tremendous effort. "I've been trying to be understanding, but realistically you have no future with him. Even if you resigned from being a Slayer, there's no good way your relationship plays out. None."

For a long moment, she seemed to agonize over this before speaking. "I've got too many things to worry about when school starts up again," she told them. "Not to mention wizards possibly coming here. So what I'm going to do is focus on stopping the Mayor, keeping the Hellmouth closed, and getting into college. But until I hear from Angel himself that we have no future, no one- no one- is going to lecture me on my love life."

And with that Buffy walked away.

From the expressions that crossed the remainder of the Scoobies faces, they realized that this was a battle that they weren't going to win.

"We'll keep working on her," Willow replied. "That's more than we usually got from her."

Faith shook her head. "She's got it bad." Then she briefly looked at Harry. "But someone's gotta convince her not to be love's bitch, or it'll kill her faster than her night job."

Giles clearly didn't want to dwell on this. "How are you going to get back to England?"

Hermione perked up a little. "While we were in LA, I got wind of a couple of Portkey centers that are nearby. It's probably our safest bet."

"We'll catch the next bus to LA. After that, we'll try and figure out our next move," Harry replied. "Which starts with figuring out how to schedule a meeting with the Order."

Hermione and Ron looked a little surprised. "Sure you want to do that?" Hermione asked

"The four of us can't kill Voldemort by ourselves," Harry admitted. "If there's one thing our little stay on the Hellmouth has taught me, it's that we're stronger when we're together than apart. We need a plan, and the fact is, three wizards and one Slayer can't defeat Voldemort's army. We need numbers, maybe less than we thought, but we still need them. But first things first."

"Then let's get moving," Faith told them.

"Sure you don't want to pick up anything from your motel?" Harry asked.

Faith shrugged. "I came to town with nothing, I got no problems leaving with that."

There was a moment of awkwardness before Giles filled it. "Harry, Ron, Hermione, it has been a privilege working with the three of you, and I have a feeling that this isn't the last I'll be seeing of any of you."

"I've got the same feeling," Harry replied. "I just hope its under better circumstances."

"So do I, Harry, so do I." Xander and Willow were starting to make their goodbyes when Giles addressed Faith.

"I realize we haven't seen eye to eye on a lot," he told her. "But don't consider yourself second to anybody anywhere."

Faith tried not to show it, but she did manage to glow a little at this.

"Hellmouth won't be the same without you," Willow told her. "I'd hug you, but you never really liked that."

"Thanks for that, Red," Faith looked more grateful.

"Kick Voldy's ass," Xander told her. "Just try not to enjoy it too much."

She actually chuckled at this.

"Faith," Buffy spoke for the first time. "Don't die."

This was the least of the compliments Faith had been paid, but she seemed to take the most pleasure out of it. "Catch you later, B. Kick that smiling suit's ass."

"I will."

And with that the four of them began to walk.

"Not that I'm not grateful that you're coming," Harry asked Faith as soon as they were out of earshot, "but you're going in almost blind against a big enemy. Doesn't that worry you?"

"A little," Faith admitted, "but let's just say I had a better reason to leave than I did to stay."

Despite himself, Harry couldn't stop a goofy grin from briefly crossing his face. It lasted until he realized that there was a chance- albeit a remote one- that Faith was going to encounter Ginny. Even then, it didn't quite dissipate.

There were still Horcruxes out there, and they had no idea where and what they were, there were armies of Death Eaters roaming the night, and Voldemort knew what they were planning now. Yet for the first time, an emotion Harry hadn't dared feel was rising in his heart.

Hope.

**END OF PART I**


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